Volkov's Mate

Chapter Two: The Council

When he arrived in Italy, Nikolai could not have been less enthused. The atmosphere was bustling, the weather was warm, the surrounding coast was stunning, but all Nikolai was thinking about was the upcoming boredom that he was going to endure. Once at the hotel and checked in, he made his way to room 340. Other alphas chose either penthouses, presidential suites, or more expensive hotels. They lavish themselves, but Nikolai found himself in a humble and quaint hotel room. It had a queen bed with an airy white comforter and four blue pillows. Above it was large framed mirror. The other necessities of a hotel room were present; it was nothing extravagant.

As he set his baggage down on the bed he glimpsed at himself in the mirror. Short, dirty blond hair sat messily atop his head; the locks intertwined with each other in harmony. Thick brown eyebrows enhanced his dark hazel eyes. Those eyes which could turn paralyze you in the instant it took you to meet his gaze also held a strong sadness hidden behind their icy facade. Light blond stubble shone in the sun's light, illuminating thick pink lips, and creating even more definition to his cut jawline.

"Maybe while I'm here I'll get a tan," he pondered aloud, removing his narcissistic gaze from the mirror. Just as he was about to pick up the first shirt to put away, he hears a knock at the door. "Coming," he sighed.

When he opened the door he was greeted by Andrew Pierce. "Hello, Nikolai, wow, you're taller than I remember."

"Oh god, why are you here right now?" He responded, rubbing his temple as he moved over to let the bulk of a man known as Andrew enter. "I was just about to catch up on some sleep."

"But I brought wine! It'll help you sleep. Alpha Enzo Coiro's wife gave it to me as a welcoming gift. I got here two days ago, the tickets were cheaper then for a round trip. Just share a glass with me then I'll be out of your hair."

"Fill the glass if you're going to continue talking. By the time you're done my hair will probably be as grey as yours." Nikolai said casually.

"I'm fifty-five, not seventy-two. I've lived half my life. My hair is a testament to my long life... and it makes me look wiser."

"I like the ponytail too. Now, about that wine," Nikolai started as he reached out to take the bottle.

"Oh yes, follow me out to the balcony. We have a lot of catching up to do before today's council meeting begins."

Every year since 1940 the alphas of every werewolf pack meet together. The International Werewolf Warfare Convention, otherwise known as the Council, is run by eleven elected officials. Although they meet once a year, the council members had responsibilities throughout the year; they were mediators to packs in surrounding territory. They met in different neutral locations every time to be safe. Without the fear of attack, the tensions are lessened and the focus is more on legislative and judicial policies. This year, the main focus would be on the settling of the dispute in Norway and electing a new councilman due to Alpha Adem Khalid untimely death two months earlier.

Or at least that was what Nikolai expected the focus to be when he took his seat. Most the other councilmembers were already in their seats and making small talk with their close associates in low whispers. The ten officials sat in the front of the large room. Alpha Pierce was among them sitting to the left of Nikolai. The other eight councilmen varied from being American Indian, Canadian, English, Brazilian, Indian, Chinese, African, and Italian. Once everyone had arrived and was seated, Alpha Pierce addressed the council.

"Hello, I'm glad we all made it safe to this year's Council meeting. I say we should get down to business immediately starting with land disputes. So will the alphas from the Byrkije and Narvik packs please address each other."