I've patched up bike engines with more calm than I watched him receive that call.
The office filled fast — Killian first, then Mara, then a handful of ranked wolves I recognized from the council chamber, each of them arriving with the kind of grim, efficient speed that told me this wasn't the first hostage crisis this pack had weathered, however much dread hung in the room regardless. Someone had already pulled up a territory map, pinning it to the wall with quick, practiced hands, red string marking boundary lines I was only beginning to understand.
"They want a trade," Killian said, reading off his own phone, jaw tight. "Dax for territory concessions along the eastern boundary. If we don't respond by dawn, they've made it clear what happens next."
"We're not giving up territory," Rona
