The horizon had never been this dark before.
I stood in the command center watching monitors display scout reports. Each one was worse than the last. Movement on three borders. Pack formations appearing where territory had been empty yesterday. Forces converging with precision that spoke of careful planning, coordination, intent.
War wasn't coming anymore.
It was here.
"Northern perimeter shows fifty wolves minimum," Finn reported, his voice tight. "Moving in standard pack formation. Military discipline. Not raiders. Soldiers."
"Eastern approach has double that," another scout added. "Three distinct pack signatures. They're coordinating movements through some kind of synchronized command structure."
Through our bond, Darius absorbed the information while conducting his own assessment from the south tower. His wolf senses were picking up what the monitors couldn't show—patterns in movement, intent in positioning, enemy strategy revealing itself through action.
