Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby -
Chapter 47: The Leroux Family
Chapter 47: The Leroux Family
While Adrian, Selene, and Eleanor were discussing various topics... ranging from early childhood education to school systems and mental development. Freya sat quietly on the couch, happily munching on the snacks her grandfather had prepared.
Just then, the door opened and Fiona entered, her presence as commanding as ever.
"Eleanor, you’ve already arrived. Good," she said, her tone calm and hint of relief.
Eleanor immediately stood up and bowed respectfully. "Good afternoon, Grandma."
Fiona smiled faintly and gestured for her to sit back down. "No need to stand on ceremony. Relax."
Then, her gaze shifted to the little one sitting on the couch. "And what is my sweetheart eating? Look what I brought for you!" she said warmly as she approached Freya, holding a finely wrapped, ornate box in her hand.
"Present! What is it?" Freya’s eyes sparkled as she leapt off the sofa and stretched her arms toward the box.
"Open it and see. It’s a surprise," Fiona said, handing it over.
Freya quickly unwrapped the box, only to blink in surprise. "An Xbox Wireless Controller?" Her excitement dimmed slightly. "But I already have one."
"Take it in your hands like you’re playing," Fiona said with a knowing smile.
Curious, Freya did as instructed and immediately brightened up. "It’s smaller! It feels better to hold... like it fits my fingers perfectly!"
"It’s the latest model. Just released yesterday," Fiona said. "I asked someone to make a smaller version especially for you, so you can play comfortably."
"I love it! I really, really love it!" Freya exclaimed.
"Then where’s my hug?" Fiona asked, feigning a pout, her voice playful.
Freya rushed over and hugged her tightly.
Fiona hugged her back, then whispered, "I want kisses too."
"Okay! Here you go," Freya replied, planting two cheerful kisses on each of her great-grandmother’s cheeks. "Happy now?"
"Very happy," Fiona said with a chuckle.
"Then I’m going back to my snacks," Freya declared seriously, returning to her seat like she was a busy professional on a lunch break.
Fiona turned to Eleanor and said softly, "Come with me. I need to speak with you before the meeting."
Eleanor nodded and followed her upstairs. They entered Fiona’s private study on the second floor... a large room lined with shelves full of ancient books and old scrolls, along with a sturdy oak desk near the window.
"Sit," Fiona said, pointing to a chair across from her.
As Eleanor sat, Fiona leaned back in her chair. "What do you know about the Leroux family?"
Eleanor took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Not much firsthand. Most of what I know comes from old clan records and business intelligence."
"Tell me what you know," Fiona said, folding her hands over her lap.
Eleanor nodded and began. "The Leroux Clan is an ancient werewolf bloodline that originated in France. Their most distinct trait is the red fur on their heads, which translates into red hair in their human form. Historically, they began with trades in textiles, fabrics, spices, medicinal herbs, gemstones, and precious metals... industries that thrived on French colonial expansion."
She paused for a breath before continuing. "Over time, they evolved. Today, they own some of the world’s most elite fashion houses, pharmaceutical companies, high-end spice brands, and gemstone boutiques. In recent years, they’ve expanded into the aircraft, automobile, and IT sectors, successfully carving out influence in modern industries."
Fiona nodded. "And what do you know about the enmity between their clan and ours? How did it begin?"
Eleanor hesitated for a moment before answering. "It dates back to the colonization era. When the Raynor Clan supported the British Empire, the Leroux Clan sided with France. Both were business clans, eager to exploit colonial opportunities and secure resources. Tensions escalated as their business interests clashed."
She continued with growing confidence. "The Raynor Clan’s first major business expansion began in North America, where the British had seized vast territories in the Dawnland, Salmon Falls, Caniadari Quaront, Plymouth Colony, Roode Eylandt, and Quonoktacut to form what became known as New England. In an effort to weaken British influence in the region, France launched attacks on English settlements, often aligning with Indigenous groups. Rather than engaging in large-scale battles, they relied on guerrilla-style raids. This strategy inadvertently favored the Leroux Clan, who used their werewolf abilities to launch stealth attacks on scattered Raynor Clan members. These members had been spread across the region to establish businesses utilizing local mines and crops."
She lowered her voice slightly. "They attacked our clan members in places like Schenectady and Salmon Falls. They thought they could eliminate us quietly during wartime chaos, but some members survived and returned to report the massacres."
Fiona’s face darkened, but she remained silent, allowing Eleanor to continue.
"That incident enraged the clan. In retaliation, the Raynor Clan funded a New England militia and launched an expedition to capture Port Royal... the capital of Acadia and a key Leroux stronghold. This marked the Leroux Clan and France’s first major colonial defeat at the hands of English colonial forces. Many members of the Leroux Clan perished in that assault. In response, the Leroux Clan formally declared war against the Raynor Clan."
Eleanor paused for a deep breath. "The feud spread across the globe. Our clans fought in India, Senegal, Louisiana, Canada, the Caribbean, and even Indochina. Countless members were lost on both sides. Eventually, the King of Werewolves intervened to prevent further devastation. A treaty was signed, forbidding direct attacks between the clans. From then on, conflict was restricted to business warfare and covert actions."
Fiona finally spoke, her voice grim. "That’s a concise summary of our bitter history. And you’re right... the attacks didn’t truly stop. They just became more subtle. Over the centuries, several Raynor and Blanc Clan members were killed by them, but never directly... always through hired hands or staged ’accidents.’ Today, surveillance systems and global scrutiny make direct violence even harder."
She stood and walked over to the window, looking out into the forest below.
"In modern times, business became the new battlefield. While we dominated the U.S. market, the Leroux Clan expanded aggressively into China. They capitalized on our delayed investment in the IT sector and made a fortune from global markets. They poured that money into China’s machinery industry and began competing with our European companies head-on."
Eleanor frowned. "If the enmity was so serious, why didn’t the clans resolve it through a Holy Duel? Wouldn’t that have been cleaner?"
Fiona gave her a weary smile. "It’s not that simple. As one of the Ten Great Clans, we’re not permitted to initiate a Holy Duel with a lesser clan. Only the lesser party may challenge upwards. Leroux could initiate one... but they never did. As long as a direct descendant of Elizabeth’s bloodline... like my Grandma, you or me... remains alive, they won’t risk it."
She sat back down. "They know they can’t win. That’s why they’ve resorted to assassinations over the centuries. And don’t forget, we are the Ambassador Clan. Our resistance to silver and wolfsbane makes us special... unique even among werewolves. If they tried to challenge our status, the Council wouldn’t support it easily."
Eleanor looked thoughtful. "But then... why keep pushing this conflict if they know they can’t win?"
Fiona’s gaze hardened. "Because of Council politics. As the Ambassador Clan, we manage relations in both the human and supernatural worlds. We are the wealthiest of the Ten Clans. Others rely on our financial networks. But some, like the Treasurer, Valemont Clan... resent our power. They’ve been working quietly to weaken us, afraid the King depends too much on our wealth."
She continued, "Then there’s the Fenroth Clan, the Warlords of the Council. They’ve always resented us. One of their ancestors was blessed by Fenrir himself. They control the King’s military power. To them, our clan’s success represents everything they detest."
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