The pack had settled into a steady, comfortable calm in the days following the BBQ.
Laughter still echoed through the packhouse at meals, and pups chased one another through the clearing as if the world had not once burned around us. It felt almost wrong—this peace. Like borrowed time.
I was in the library when the wards hummed.
Not the sharp warning of an attack, but the low, steady vibration that signaled a high-ranking wolf crossing the boundary. My wolf stirred instantly, lifting her head, alert and expectant.
“Elijah,” I said softly through the bond.
I felt it, he replied. Marcus is here.
I was already on my feet.
By the time we reached the front Alphma Marcus was there. Concern all over his face. Ayla who stood rigid at the foot of the stairs, hands clasped tightly in front of
