The morning sun filtered through the pines, casting pale gold across Bloodstone’s borderlands. Crystal walked alongside Dustin, Bree whispering beneath her skin, senses extending like a living web. The forest seemed calmer now, but the tension from last night still lingered in the air. Every snap of a twig, every flutter of leaves, carried the echo of the rogue attack.
At the packhouse, the main hall hummed with quiet activity. Warriors checked equipment, cleaned weapons, and recounted movements from the previous night. Mindlinks pulsed subtly, relaying information from the offensive and defensive groups. The pack had survived the first strike, but the rogues had been unnervingly coordinated.
Dustin stood at the head of the long oak table, maps spread out before him. Crystal and Bree hov
