POV: Alpha Jackson Reynolds
The night in the Whispering Pines was not merely dark; it was absolute. The canopy was so dense that the moonlight, usually a comforting presence for our kind, couldn't penetrate the layers of ancient needles. Our camp was a fragile bubble of artificial light, illuminated by the humming floodlights of the construction vehicles, but even that felt swallowed by the oppressive silence of the forest.
I paced the perimeter, Titus restless beneath my skin. The "whispering" had changed since the sun went down. It was no longer a rhythmic rustle; it had become a burst of clicks and low-frequency vibrations that made the hair on my arms stand up. The crew was on edge. I could see it in the way the Ironwood warriors gripped their axes and the Diamond Moon scouts kept th
