They came through the tree line in formation.
Not chaos — precision. Sixty-three wolves in a combat spread, gifts already active, the specific shimmer in the pre-dawn air that meant multiple ability users in close proximity. They moved with the coordinated efficiency of people who had done this before, whose alpha had taken them through this kind of operation many times over thirty years of winning.
Valdris was at the center.
Silver-haired. Heavily built. Moving with the deliberate unhurried pace of a man who had never been surprised by an outcome in a very long time. He looked at the creek bed, at the compound beyond it, at the Silverfang wolves visible on the banks.
He didn't look surprised.
He looked at Mira.
"Mira Cole," he said. His voice carried easily across the water. "You lo
