Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby

Chapter 165

Chapter 165: The Future of the Werewolves-1

The entire werewolf race had already begun preparations for the upcoming competition. Following their King’s decree, they recognised it as a golden opportunity for the younger generation. Regardless of size or status, every clan aimed to seize this chance to elevate the strength of their future generation. After all, though werewolves lived long lives, it was the youth who brought prosperity, strength, and prestige to their clans.

It wasn’t that the elders stopped contributing as they aged... it was more complicated than that. Living among mortals came with its constraints. Werewolves couldn’t maintain the same identity for too long in human society. Sooner or later, they had to change their appearance or relocate entirely, starting over from scratch.

Relocating an entire clan was no small task. It was a process filled with risk and logistical nightmares. That’s why werewolves had adopted the tradition of passing on the legacy to the younger generation. Even clans that ran businesses had to ensure that their human employees believed a legitimate transition of ownership was taking place. Continuity, even if only in appearance, was essential.

In the Raynor Clan, the responsibility of organizing the competition fell upon Xavier Raynor, following a formal clan meeting. Once the schedule was finalized and announced, over fifty young werewolves registered to compete.

Xavier felt the headache arrive almost instantly.

Managing that many participants would be a monumental task. The biggest hurdle was to set a Venue. The Raynor Clan didn’t own a private arena or stadium suitable for such a large-scale competition. And this wasn’t a game... when two werewolves fought, they would inevitably use their wolf abilities. Hosting the event in a public place would lead to a potential supernatural disaster.

Two days passed. Xavier brainstormed, calculated, and stressed, but came up with many things, but nothing substantial. Finally, frustrated and out of options, he decided to call Fiona.

After hearing him out, Fiona exhaled slowly.

"Your real problem," she began, her voice calm, "is just the final match. The preliminary rounds... you can arrange those at our ancestral land. But the final... that’s going to be tricky."

"We’ll need to invite the other clan heads to witness it. I’ve already received an invitation from the Fenroth Clan, and I’m sure others will follow. We can’t ignore them. We need to prepare a proper venue... even if it’s just for one day."

the arena to contain everything.

sigh of relief. "Understood. I’ll contact

ending the call, he added,

"This boy... he can run the entire police force of Manchester but

bed and padded barefoot across the polished wooden floor toward the tall window. She parted the curtains as if

into the room, spilling over pale linens, painting the walls in soft hues of rose and amber. It was one of those

Hallstatt’s peaks still wore their snowy crowns. The Dachstein Mountains glittered under the morning sun like cut crystal. And yet, change

but clean and gentle, laced with the earthy scent of thawing soil, pine, and distant warmth of light. The gust

rooftops bore their final shawls of snow as the last remnants of a long Alpine winter. Droplets fell steadily from leaves and branches, pattering onto cobblestone paths and

to the stone. There, in quiet defiance of winter, the first bursts of colour had arrived. Pale crocuses,

if the earth had exhaled, sending out these fragile

seemed to stretch into forever. A thin veil of mist hovered across its ghostlike surface, and reluctant to let go.

leaned forward, resting her elbows on the cold window ledge. A sense of quiet awe bloomed in her chest. This place felt carved by gods or spirits... a world untouched by rush, by noise, by burden. Here, time feels slower

and over with this

between seasons, felt sacred. As though Hallstatt had embraced her gently and whispered: This

sadness stirred in

competition loomed ahead. It was time to return to Manchester and oversee preparations. The

unprepared... not when so

***

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