Marybeth
“We’ll need you there,” he added. Not a demand. An expectation. I nodded. Of course. Because this wasn’t just about me anymore. It never had been.
“I’ll get ready,” I said. And as I turned … The warmth of the evening faded. Replaced by something colder. Sharper. Unavoidable. The world wasn’t waiting for me to figure things out. It was already moving.
The council room felt different that night. Not tense. Focused. That was worse. Tension could break. Focus meant decisions had already begun. Maps covered the center table. Patrol routes. Border markers.
Sighting reports from the eastern ridge where the forest thickened, and the territory lines blurred into old hunting land no pack fully claimed anymore. My father stood at the head of the table, one hand braced against the wood.
