By noon, the pack house had fallen into a silence so thick that even the clatter of dishes from the kitchen felt distant, muffled. The long dining table in the meeting hall was set—polished silver, crystal glasses, and steaming trays of food that no one cared to touch. The scent of roasted meat and herbs lingered in the air, but the hunger in the room was not for food—it was for answers.
Michael stood near the tall window that overlooked the training grounds, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Beyond the glass, warriors sparred in pairs, their precise movements a familiar rhythm of discipline and strength. The sound of fists colliding, of grunts and effort, echoed faintly into the stillness of the hall.
“Alpha Darius has arrived,” Calvin announced from the doorway, his tone respe
