The first sign was not chaos.
It was hesitation.
A patrol stood at the eastern ridge of Blackthorn territory, wolves aligned in disciplined formation as they had been taught since birth. The order to advance came sharp and unquestioned.
And no one moved.
Confusion rippled through the line. Not rebellion. Not defiance. Something worse. Uncertainty.
The Alpha at the front snarled, dominance flaring instinctively. The pressure rolled outward, heavy and commanding, the kind that usually snapped spines into obedience.
It faltered.
Not vanished. Not broken. Simply… resisted.
Several wolves shifted uncomfortably. One lowered his head halfway, then stopped. Another clenched his jaw, breath ragged, eyes unfocused as if listening to a voice no one else could hear.
“What is happening,” the A
