#Chapter 58: The Selection

Ava The docks were buzzing with activity as Chris and I hurried toward the growing crowd, our rapid footsteps echoing against the weathered wooden planks. A ferry had just docked, and a steady stream of passengers was stepping off of it. Werewolves from the human continent—those who had come to participate in the Alpha selection process. “Looks like word travels fast,” Chris murmured, already scanning the crowd with a keen eye as we approached. I nodded mutely, clipboard in hand as I prepared to document the influx of visitors. It had only been a couple of weeks since Chris made his public announcement, and already we had people practically banging down our doors to enter the running. The Elders, of course, were not happy with this decision. They watched from afar in their draping robes, all five of them standing in a perfect row. All of them, save for Degas, had Chris and myself fixed with stony stares. Only Degas looked on with a bit of intrigue. One by one, the par