Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby

Chapter 112: The Two Thrones

Maya stood in front of Eleanor, holding a tablet in her hand, her expression grim.

"A team from our U.S. division just visited the Indian companies," she began. "They've suggested several

improvements to our previous strategies for each company, but there’s a common problem we can’t ignore...

security and management are severely lacking. The employees are so casual that they have no concept of

company secrecy or confidentiality. We need to deploy our own security personnel immediately."

She paused, then looked up at Eleanor with concern in her eyes. "Also, we need to assess which of their

employees we can retain long-term. Everyone must sign confidentiality agreements, and we'll need to train them

on how to meet the standards of our company."

Eleanor nodded thoughtfully. "It’s okay. I've been planning to visit India for stnow. Looks like I'll have to

go sooner than expected. I'll personally oversee the security situation there."

She turned to her computer and quickly tapped a message to Lily.

"As for the training programs," she added aloud, "ask Lily to send a team from our administrative and legal

departments. Explain the situation to her thoroughly... she'll know what to do."

She looked at Maya again. "Send Teresa in on your way out."

Maya nodded and left the room. A moment later, Teresa entered.

"Boss, you called for me?"

"Yes. I'm planning an urgent trip to India," Eleanor replied. "Check my schedule and clear any conflicts so | can

arrange an appointment as soon as possible."

"There's nothing critical in your schedule for the next few days. Everything's flexible," Teresa said. "Who should |

call for the appointment?"

"Not you. | need to make this call personally."

Eleanor picked up her phone and dialed Fiona. The call was answered almost instantly.

"Grandma, | need to schedule a meeting with the matriarch of Harivamsa Clan," she said briskly.

"I'll send you the number of the Clan Head's secretary," Fiona replied without hesitation. "He should be able to

handle the appointment."

"And if there's any trouble, just letknow. I'll speak directly to the Clan Head."

"Thanks, Grandma."

Moments later, Eleanor received the contact information and placed the call.

"Hello, I'm Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor of the Raynor Clan," she said when the line connected. "I'd like to request an

appointment with Reverend Sarika Somavati Harivansha. Please convey the message to her."

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"Ah! It's an honor to hear from you, Young Miss Raynor," cthe polite voice on the other end. "The Reverend

One is currently in a meeting with His Highness, the Heir Apparent. | was instructed not to disturb her unless it's

a matter of life or death."

"This isn’t urgent. Just let her know | need an appointment at her earliest convenience."

"Understood. I'll inform her after the meeting."

"Thank you," Eleanor said, ending the call.

She turned back to Teresa. "Maya needs support at the Indian companies. Talk to her and make arrangements. |

want the Indian branches to begin production as soon as possible. Also, send someone from our legal team to

draft new employment contracts and confidentiality agreements. You already know how to shape a company to

match our standards."

"Understood. I'll get on it right away," Teresa responded, and left the office.

Eleanor then opened her phone and checked the Whatgroup created for Freya's school moms. There were

over a hundred new messages. She skimmed through them and realized the group still hadn't finalized a venue

for their outing.

After deciding to follow up on the group chat later, she opened the live feed from Freya's school, watching her

daughter play classmates and solving puzzles. The sight brought a rare smile to her face.

She then began clearing the piled up works. After finishing her paperwork, she closed her laptop and left her

office... it was tto pick up Freya from school.

As she exited the elevator, Ethan's car was already waiting for her.

"You're early," she said as she entered his car.

"I like to be early when it’s about Freya," Ethan replied with a small smile.

They drove off to the school in silence, the comfort of routine enveloping them.

ork

In the heart of an obsidian citadel,

beneath a vaulted ceiling etched with

constellations drawn from ancient

werewolf blooginfS pean

theope nom $rAdUse Lychos... the

ruling clan of the werewolves. Vast

and echoing, the hall seemed to

breathe with silence older than any

living soul within its walls. The hush

was broken only by the occasional

gust of wind curling through towering

arched windows of crystal glass. The

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Each pane shimmered faintly, catching flashes of distant lightning from thunderclouds gathering over the high

peaks of snowing mountain. It was as though nature itself had cto bear witness, baring its teeth in

allegiance to the absent King.

At the far end of the hall, upon a dais carved from midnight-black stone laced with golden veins, stood two

thrones.... symbols of legacy and power.

The first, at the center, loomed with

somber authority. It was hewn from

black marble veined with fossilized

amber, like lightning ca turedHnm

stone. Hg higky Sh dems like

jdadad mountains, and above it hung

a banner stitched in gold: wolves

mid-howl| beneath a crescent moon.

This was the throne of Damon

Brontes Lychos, the King of

Werewolves. It stood vacant now...

silent, formidable, and cold... its

emptiness a thunderclap of absence.

To its right, smaller yet no less noble,

stood the throne of the High

Apparent. Crafted from white iron

and polished oak, it was GIEnEeh

runes of [eqiaedohd storm. Upon

itlsat\Erevan Brontes Lychos, the

crown prince. Draped in a

golden-edged cloak that spilled like

moonlight down the steps, Erevan

sat upright, a sculpture of poise and

power. A lightning-shaped tattoo

beneath his eye flickered with subtle

energy, the dormant strength of his

lineage stirring in his veins. The

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the latest chapter there!

He did not fidget or lean. His posture was that of someone carrying the weight of an entire race upon his back...

silent but commanding, still but alert.

Flanking the twin thrones in crescent formations were ten high-backed chairs, carved with the crests of the Great

Houses. Today, they were empty, their absence a testament to the lack of formal council. This was not a day for

politics or ceremony. This was a day of omens.

Beside the throne of the High Apparent sat the only occupied chair... one reserved for the High Priest of the

werewolves.

Sarika Somavati Harivamsa, the Revered One of the Werewolf Council, sat cloaked in twilight-hued silks. Runes

inlaid with gemstones glimmered faintly upon her sleeves. Her long braid of silver hair reached the floor, and

from her neck hung the Crescent Fang... an ancient relic said to have been carved from the tooth of the first

werewolf of her bloodline.

Her eyes were half-closed, yet all-seeing. She watched Erevan not as a subject to a ruler, but as a seer to a storm

not yet broken. The scent of Incense and old parchment lingered in the air. The air itself seemed charged, as

though the very stones waited to listen, to bear witness to whatever decree or destiny would next thunder

through these hallowed halls.