ROWAN
The reports came in without pause. One after another. Each one landed like a blow to the chest.
“Sunrise Line breached in three locations, Alpha. They’re using silver-tipped weapons.”
“The Signal Nexus is down. We’re operating on backup systems only.”
“Seven wounded. Two critical. They’re striking our patrol routes with intent.”
I stood in the war room, both hands braced against the tactical table. The surface vibrated faintly with movement as wolves passed behind me. My people kept reporting in, voices clipped, faces tight. No panic. No confusion. Just the clear signs of a pack under pressure.
This wasn’t chaos. This wasn’t desperation.
This was planning.
They knew where to hit. They knew when. They knew how we would respond.
Someone had told them.
Traitor, Ken snarled in
