“Why are we testing this?" Amber asked, standing at the edge of the frozen drill field.
“Because if your voice is going to inspire an army," Raven replied, “we need to know if the tech they're building around it can keep up."
She stared at the crates of equipment being unpacked—miniature sonic cannons, headset-linked amplifiers, wearable transmitters. Each bore the seal of the Alliance's R&D arm.
“They took my whistle frequency," she muttered, “and turned it into a weapon."
Raven crossed his arms. “You always knew they would."
The field officers signaled readiness. Dozens of wolf soldiers—clad in winter armor, most barely suppressing their transformations—stood in lines. Amber recognized many of them from the keep. Some had been her patients. Some avoided her gaze.
She swallowed. “Be
