Chapter 109

We were all on high alert, and I felt the strain of it pressing down on my shoulders, the weight of each decision amplified by the anticipation of what was to come. Every day, scouts returned from patrol with the same report: Silas’s pack was gathering on the far side of the border, their movements calculated, ominous, and waiting. It was only a matter of time before he would make his move.

It came at dusk, on the edge of twilight. I was standing near the western border with Dante, overseeing final adjustments to our defenses when a lone Talon scout emerged from the trees, his face pale and his breath ragged.

“Alpha, they’re here,” he panted, casting a quick glance back over his shoulder.

“Silas’s wolves—they’re coming from the south. A full patrol, armed and ready.”

I felt a rush of adrenaline, a sharp focus settling over me as I turned to Dante.

“Sound the call. We’ll meet them head-on.”

Dante nodded, his face a mask of grim determination, and he let out a long, echoing howl, signaling the pack. The compound stirred, wolves springing into action as they moved to their positions, each of them alert and ready. Our preparation had been extensive, our drills relentless, but now, faced with the reality of an enemy force, I saw the flicker of fear in a few eyes. This wasn’t just training anymore—this was war.