The room is still tight with exposure when the howl cuts through it.
Not close.
Not immediate.
But clear.
A single note rising from the northern edge of the territory, carrying the same cadence as before, deliberate and measured, not a breach call and not a challenge, but a signal.
Every wolf in the hall freezes.
Not because of fear.
Because of recognition.
The sound threads through stone and timber, low and sharp, and it settles in the chest like a memory replayed.
Layla stiffens inside me.
Same rhythm.
“Yes,” I whisper internally.
Across the room, patrol leaders turn their heads toward the northern wall instinctively, muscles tightening in readiness.
The elders react differently.
They lean inward.
Not toward the border.
Toward the table.
“See,” Corvin says sharply. “This
