The next morning, the Black Howler food hall was unusually quiet. Not completely silent—there was still the soft scrape of utensils against plates, the occasional clink of cups, and the low murmur of parents speaking to their pups—but the usual warmth of breakfast was gone.
No loud laughter. No playful teasing between warriors. No pups racing between tables until an omega gently reminded them to sit down and eat.
Everyone could feel it. The tension. The anticipation. The unease. Something was coming.
And every wolf in Black Howler knew it.
News of the increased feral activity beyond their borders had already spread through the pack. Talon had sent a pack-wide mind link the previous evening, informing everyone that the pack would begin emergency preparations first thing in the morning.
