The pack gathered in the great hall before sunrise, summoned by horn and by word of mouth, the wounded propped in makeshift seats alongside those who'd escaped the battle unscathed, every face in the room carrying some mixture of exhaustion, fear, and desperate need for answers. Lyra stood at the front of the hall beside Kael and Damian, her borrowed clothes still stained from the courtyard, her hands trembling slightly despite her best efforts to hide it.
Kael raised a hand, and the murmuring crowd fell silent with the immediate, practiced obedience of wolves who had followed his authority for decades even after formally stepping down from the Alpha seat.
"Tonight," he began, "many of you fought and bled defending this territory against an army that should not have existed. You deserve
