Tala hesitates. “Forty-three settlers confirmed dead. Survivors fled to Haven’s Heart council.”
A shocking number. Bold, even for Stormcrow. The bear clan always exhibited more aggression than my pack, but this crossed from territorial claim to war declaration.
“Any direct contact with Stormcrow’s people?”
“No, Alpha. But rumors circulate...” She shifts uncomfortably.
“Speak freely.”
“Other clans emerge too. Frost Lynx from the north. Red Claw coyotes from the western desert. The ancient barriers fail everywhere.”
I dismiss her with instructions to rest before joining morning patrols. Alone, I absorb this new reality. My discussion with Ember about mating rituals seems insignificant now amid this escalation. Additional wild clans mean expanding conflicts, increasing violence, and mounting pressure from the council to contain us all.
I should have anticipated this development. The ancestral domains stretch vast, housing numerous clans far less interested in negotiation than Shadow Wolves. We represent moderates among wild shifters. Stormcrow’s bears... they operate by different rules entirely.
Marcus enters without announcement, a beta’s privilege. “You heard?”
“Yes.”
“The pack must know.”
“They will. At dawn council.”
He paces my tent’s length. “This changes everything. We should contact emerging clans. Form alliances.”
I raise an eyebrow. “With Stormcrow? The bear who eats cubs rather than conversing?”
Marcus stops pacing. “Not him specifically. But the others—the Lynx, the Red Claws. Wild clans should unite against Haven’s Heart’s domesticated pets.”
“What about our ongoing negotiations with those ‘pets’?”
“What negotiations? They progress nowhere. The firepanther distracts you from our purpose—reclaiming ancestral lands.”
I speak with dangerous intensity. “Careful, Marcus. Your loyalty remains unquestioned, but you approach challenging my authority.”
He immediately lowers his gaze. “I meant no disrespect, Alpha. I worry about survival. Those modernized shifters will unite against us now, seeing no distinction between Shadow Wolves and Stormcrow’s bears.”
He speaks the truth, though I dislike admitting it. The council will view all wild clans as threats after Stormcrow’s slaughter. The distinction I’ve established during negotiations—between legitimate territorial claims and savage aggression—will dissolve in panic.
“Double border patrols,” I instruct. “Have Lena and Kai track the bear clan movements. I need information if Stormcrow turns toward us.”
“And Ember Steelclaw? The negotiations?”
Hearing her name creates an unwelcome sensation. “Continue as planned. For now.”
Marcus clearly disapproves but indicates agreement. “Dawn council in one hour.”
After his departure, I observe from the tent entrance as my pack awakens. Cubs tumble from family tents, mothers call them for breakfast, while hunters prepare weapons. This morning routine might vanish if Haven’s Heart decides all wild shifters require elimination.
Thoughts of Ember and our mating bond discussion return. If clan violence spreads, any possibility of reconciling our worlds—already minimal—will completely disappear.
The Haven’sHeart emergency council chamber irritates me with its polished stone and glittering chandeliers—pure displays of wealth and permanence. I attend to answer for crimes I never committed, facing accusations from people who rarely venture beyond their walled city.
Four shifter guards escort me, poorly concealing their unease. My size intimidates them naturally, but I’ve also refused to surrender weapons. No wolf would enter hostile territory defenseless.
Silence falls across the chamber upon my entrance. Twelve representatives form a semicircle on raised platforms—shifters, vampires, and two dragons in human form. I recognize Kade Steelclaw’s fire-bright hair among them.
And Ember, positioned slightly apart, maintains her professional neutrality as a fragile façade. Our gazes connect briefly before she looks elsewhere.
