The pack gathered faster than Holly expected.
The summons rolled through Hale’s Crest like a low drumbeat—voices calling out, footsteps echoing through halls and across courtyards. It wasn’t shouted, not exactly. Rowan didn’t need to shout. His authority carried in the way the air itself seemed to tighten when he spoke.
Holly stood near the edge of the dining hall, the twins close at her side. Lila’s shoulder brushed hers, Mira’s hand fisted lightly in the fabric of Holly’s sleeve as if grounding herself.
Rowan stepped forward.
The room stilled.
Every wolf present straightened—not in fear, but in instinctive acknowledgment. Even the omegas, who usually lingered at the periphery, lifted their heads.
Rowan Hale, Alpha of Hale’s Crest, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, shoul
