The first divine wolf dies at sunrise.
He’s seventeen.
From a small mountain pack three territories east.
He tried to hold the surge alone.
Morgan receives the field report in silence.
“He didn’t rupture,” she says quietly.
“How?” Kade asks.
“Cardiac collapse.”
The room goes cold.
“Divine field overload,” Morgan continues. “He attempted amplification without stabilization.”
“He went to Ashcroft’s camp?” I ask.
“Yes.”
Of course he did.
Ashcroft isn’t recruiting through force.
He’s recruiting through promise.
Structure.
Control.
Power.
And seventeen-year-olds desperate to understand what’s happening inside their bodies don’t choose moderation.
They choose clarity.
“He told them he could teach dominance,” Morgan says.
“And instead?”
“He pushed him.”
I close my eyes.
Th
