Beta Connor's Perspective
The morning of the Howling Ridge pack's arrival brought a restless energy that had nothing to do with diplomatic negotiations. I stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching the early patrol teams return from their rounds, but my wolf Sterling was pacing with an agitation I couldn't explain.
"Something's different today," Sterling muttered, his awareness stretched taut like a wire about to snap. "The air feels charged."
I'd felt it too—a subtle shift in the atmosphere that made my skin prickle with anticipation. As Beta, I was responsible for coordinating pack security during the diplomatic meetings, which meant I'd been running on three hours of sleep and too much coffee for the past week. But this restlessness felt different from exhaustion.
"Connor!"
