Kai POV
The packhouse war room is a fortress of shadows and strategy, its stone walls lined with maps scarred by pins marking rogue incursions and border patrols, the air thick with the scent of aged leather, ink, and the faint metallic tang of silver weapons stashed in the corner cabinet. Flickering sconces cast long, wavering shadows across the oak table, where scattered files from Leila’s meticulous sorting lie like unsolved puzzles, their fudged dates and erased entries a constant reminder of the traitor lurking within our ranks. My boots thud softly on the hardwood floor as I pace, the weight of the day’s revelations—Leila’s true identity as Liora, Marcus’s betrayal in her dream, and that eerie scent and movement on the eastern border—pressing on me like an Alpha’s burden. Atlas stir
