The storm rolled in without warning.
Not a violent one.
Not the kind that tore trees from the earth.
This storm came low and steady, rain soaking deep into the ground, wind whispering through branches like a reminder that nature didn’t pause for fragile trust or new beginnings.
The southern camp felt it first.
The visiting wolves’ shelters had been built quickly—sturdy, but not yet weather-tested. By nightfall, water pooled along the lower ground, and one of the smaller structures began to sag under the weight of the rain.
A young wolf ran for the inner ring, breath ragged.
“Alpha! The south embankment is flooding!”
Caleb was on his feet before the sentence finished.
Rowan and Alden were already moving.
No hesitation.
No waiting for orders.
They ran side by side through the rai
