The alarms did not stop. They cut across the forest in sharp waves, echoing from tree to tree until the sound felt endless. Warriors along the eastern border shifted into formation without waiting for further orders. Silverfang had trained for this, and every wolf knew where to stand when the horns sounded.
Ryker did not raise his voice. He did not need to. “Hold the line,” he commanded evenly. “No one crosses unless I give the order.”
His authority moved through the ranks faster than panic could.
Nightshade wolves remained beyond the marked boundary for the moment. They stood in visible numbers now, not hiding, not pretending to be scouts. This was a display. This was pressure.
Mira stood at Ryker’s side. She felt the tension in him, steady but controlled. He did not react with anger.
