The Werewolves Stir

A powerful magical barrier enclosed Eli and Lupin. No one outside could hear their conversation or probe their thoughts.

Even with that protection, Eli and Lupin lowered their voices without thinking.

"According to Victor, Fenrir has been very active among the werewolves lately. He's been gathering followers nonstop. It seems... he's preparing something."

"Victor didn't say anything more specific?" Eli asked.

Lupin pressed his lips together, searching for the right words. "I've just come back from seeing Victor. They're on edge... The werewolves following Fenrir have been shutting them out. The two sides are at each other's throats, one step away from an actual fight. Apart from knowing Fenrir is recruiting, they haven't been able to find out much else."

Knowing that Voldemort would eventually return, Eli could guess Fenrir's aim easily enough: he wanted to curry favor with Voldemort.

Fenrir was the leader of the werewolves, yet he idolized Voldemort.

Werewolves had always been weak. Forget making any big moves; most of the time, they had to hide from place to place.

Now Fenrir was calling for followers everywhere, despite the risks. He had to be planning something big.

"Have things between the werewolves really gotten that bad?" Eli asked.

He already knew a fair amount about the situation within their ranks, much of it from Victor.

Now it seemed the conflict was fiercer than he had imagined.

Victor had sworn an oath to him, so he would not have lied to Eli. The only explanation was that the conflict had intensified recently.

Lupin pulled his chair closer and stared at the cup on the table, white steam rising from it. He folded his hands on the tabletop.

"It may get worse... Fenrir and Victor have never seen eye to eye. Victor said Fenrir approached him before. He spoke