The war room stank of tradition and barely leashed violence. Liam stood at the head of the ancient oak table, watching his chosen circle take their positions while the old guard bristled like cornered wolves. Through the mate bond, he felt Akira's presence two floors above—teaching Kova hunting techniques while Luanne and Lyra fussed over mating ceremony preparations neither of them had asked for.
"This is unprecedented." Harrison Blackfang slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing off stone walls that had witnessed three centuries of pack politics. "Outsiders in every key position? You mock our heritage."
Liam let the outburst wash over him, cataloguing the room's divisions with predator precision. The traditionalists clustered around Harrison—mostly older wolves, set in their w
