Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby-Chapter 89: Alpha, Beta, Delta, Gamma, and Epsilon

Just as Ethan entered the meeting room, he sensed a subtle but unmistakable hostility in the air. Though the envoys from Clan Greymoore wore polite smiles and carried themselves with the grace of seasoned diplomats, Ethan could see right through them. Their eyes told a different story... one of disdain and superiority.

He knew why.

It was no secret that his father, Professor Adrian Raynor, had never been fond of conflict. Known for his gentle nature and brilliance in academia, Adrian was often called the "Scholar Alpha" of the Raynor Clan. Despite his status as an alpha, he had never engaged in any pack politics. Instead, he immersed himself in the natural sciences and magical theory, attending seminars and hosting conferences around the world.

Growing up under such a man, Ethan had followed in his footsteps. He had tagged along to countless conferences and lectures, soaking in the knowledge but never the hunger for dominance or physical power. Like his father, he despised showing strength for the sake of pride. Yet he was also keenly aware of one undeniable truth... in werewolf society, strength reigned supreme.

After taking his seat at the head of the conference table, Ethan adjusted his cufflinks and said smoothly, "Apologies, gentlemen, for keeping you waiting. Now, let’s discuss the matter at hand."

The Greymoore Clan had indirect control over the largest construction company operating in Stockport and the Tameside boroughs. Officially, the company was owned by the Brown family... with Oliver Brown, a sitting Member of Parliament, as its most prominent face. But Ethan knew the truth. The Greymoores controlled it from the shadows, using the Browns as their public front.

That was precisely why Ethan had strategically avoided those areas until now. He had first expanded into Trafford, Salford, Oldham, and Rochdale... surrounding Manchester with a firm business presence. Before pushing into Bury, Bolton, and Wigan, he had decided to turn his attention to Stockport and Tameside. But now, with the Greymoores sniffing around, the battle lines had been drawn.

Joseph Greymoore, the man leading the envoy, broke the silence. "Mr. Raynor, this feels like an insult. We travelled all the way from London out of respect for your family name. Otherwise, a phone call should have been enough."

Ethan smirked. "Mr. Greymoore, what can I say? There was a family emergency. But now that I’m here, let’s continue, shall we?"

Joseph’s lips tightened. "What is your stance on our proposal?"

Ethan leaned back casually. "Ah, forgive me. My memory’s a bit scattered today. What was your proposal again?"

Joseph’s jaw clenched. "Our proposal is simple. We request that you refrain from expanding into Stockport and Tameside. We’ve conducted business there for years. Surely there are other regions for your company to grow."

Ethan nodded thoughtfully, then responded, "Please, try to see this from my point of view. I’m expanding my business, not declaring war. I haven’t stopped you from entering Oldham or Manchester. It’s a free country. If we happen to operate in the same territory, we can simply coexist. You do your business, and I do mine. Simple."

Joseph’s tone dropped to something more threatening. "Mr. Raynor, you can do business anywhere in the world. But as a fellow werewolf, you should respect another clan’s turf."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "I must have missed the memo. Last I checked, your turf was in northern London. Are you planning to relocate?"

A ripple of rage passed through the Greymoore delegation. Joseph’s face turned crimson, and the others bristled in unison. Ethan’s words were a deliberate provocation, and they knew it.

The tension in the room skyrocketed.

The werewolves’ auras clashed subtly but powerfully. Jack, who stood behind Ethan like a silent shadow, could barely stay on his feet. If not for Ethan’s protective aura subtly shielding him, he might have passed out from the overwhelming pressure.

Ethan, of course, knew exactly what he was doing. Keeping Jack behind him served a dual purpose: it allowed him to show restraint in front of a human while applying psychological pressure to the Greymoores. He was daring them to lose control.

Joseph clenched his fists, his voice dropping to a near-growl. "Mr. Ethan Raynor, you’ve shown no respect to our delegation. We came in peace, but if that’s not appreciated, prepare for an official response from our clan."

Without another word, he stood abruptly and stormed out of the room. The others followed; their movements sharp with restrained fury.

Once outside the Purplebricks office, they entered their black SUVs and drove straight toward Stockport.

As soon as they hit the highway, Joseph pulled out his phone and dialled Lucian Greymoore, who is a born alpha and the Young Master of their clan, and first in line to inherit the title from their current patriarch, Alistair Greymoore.

"Young Master," Joseph began, "Ethan Raynor is arrogant beyond belief. He thinks the Raynor name makes him untouchable. He completely disregarded our goodwill and insulted our clan. I believe it’s time to inform the matter to the Clan Head."

Lucian’s voice on the other end was calm, but there was an edge of satisfaction. "You did well. I’ll inform Father. Don’t worry... I’ll make sure Ethan pays for his disrespect."

In werewolf society, born alphas were rare. Even a powerful clan like the Raynors had only fifteen born alphas. Among them, only one could be the True Alpha, the recognized leader of the entire pack. That title belonged to their Matriarch, Fiona Elizabeth Raynor.

Other alphas, despite their natural strength, functioned as betas when under the leadership of a true alpha. Then there were omegas... lone wolves or outcasts who operated outside any pack hierarchy.

The social structure didn’t stop there. Among the born betas, several subclasses existed. Deltas were physical powerhouses, born with exceptional combat prowess. They formed the core of the pack’s warrior unit.

Gammas were brilliant strategists and served as the pack’s advisors and planners.

Epsilons were scouts, gifted with agility, endurance, and heightened perception. They could traverse terrain quickly, track targets, and deliver critical messages in times of war.

Ethan Raynor, despite being a born alpha, was not a true alpha. He had no pack under him, no subordinates to provide him with aura buffs during duels, and no history of combat achievement. In the eyes of many, he was the weakest among the alphas of his generation... an intellectual, not a warrior.

Lucian Greymoore knew this. That’s why he had sent his delegation with a firm demand: leave Stockport and Tameside to the Greymoores. He also knew that if this ever escalated into a formal meeting between the two clans, the Greymoores would be forced to give up their claim because they are not Manchester locals. But Lucian had long since invested heavily in the Brown family, and Oliver Brown was essential to his powers in London politics.

Now that Ethan had refused, the path to escalation was wide open.

Lucian, grinning ear to ear, knocked on his father’s office door.

"Come in," said Alistair Greymoore from inside.

Lucian stepped in confidently and sat across from his father. "Dad, Ethan took the bait. Joseph and the others are furious. They’re ready to file an official complaint. That gives us the right to challenge Ethan to a duel."

Alistair narrowed his eyes. "If they file a formal complaint, we can push it through the Council. But remember... anyone from Ethan’s generation in the Raynor Clan can fight on his behalf. Are you sure you can handle whoever they send?"

Lucian nodded firmly. "Don’t worry. I’ve gathered intelligence. Their strongest betas are older than Ethan and can’t participate in a same-generation duel. The younger fighters are inexperienced, and they wouldn’t dare send their Young Miss. If she lost, it would tarnish the reputation of their future Clan Head."

Alistair considered this. "If that’s the case, then Ethan stands no chance. As vice leader of our clan, you have our warriors to support you with aura buffs. And since I won’t be near the duel, Fiona Raynor won’t be able to intervene either."

He paused, then added coldly, "Go ahead. Have Joseph file the formal complaint. Let’s prepare for a duel... by the rules."

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