CHAPTER EIGHTEEN — THE COUNCIL'S EYES
The horn echoed a third time—longer, lower.
A summons.
Not a warning.
Not a threat.
A command.
The sound crawled under my skin, vibrating through bone and blood in a way that had nothing to do with hearing. My wolf lifted her head inside me, ears pricked, posture rigid. She recognized it for what it was.
Power calling power.
Declan's hand tightened around mine. "They're not wasting time."
"Of course not," Raven muttered, wiping blood from her blade as she re-sheathed it. "They never do when something inconvenient crawls out of the dirt."
Marcus was already issuing orders, his Alpha voice snapping the lingering chaos into motion. "Owen—take the injured back to the packhouse. Healers on rotation. No one leaves the grounds."
Owen nodded, face tight with worry as he glanced at Tasha, who was just coming around, confusion clouding her eyes. He pulled her close, murmuring reassurance as they moved off.
My chest ached at the sight.
Normal.
