The "War Room" was actually just our kitchen table, now buried under maps, satellite phones, and lists of supplies.
"Are you sure they will come?" I asked, wiping my hands on a dish towel. "It’s been months since we saw them. The Forgotten Pack... they aren't exactly the trusting type."
Caleb looked up from the satellite phone. His face was grim, lit by the harsh light of the hanging bulb. "They owe us, Elena. We broke them out of Vanguard’s cages. Wolves don't forget a debt. Especially not Magda."
He dialed the number. The room went silent. Even Leo, playing with his blocks on the rug, seemed to sense the tension.
"Magda," Caleb’s voice was deep, authoritative. It wasn't a request; it was a summon. "It’s time. The debt is due."
There was a pause. I held my breath.
Then, a fain
