I move to the head of the table, scan the patrol logs. “And?”
“And it’s a shit idea. They’re not ready.”
Rafe stands motionless in the corner, arms crossed. He wasn’t invited, but here he stands anyway. His eyes never leave my face.
I set the logs down. “Keep them on daylight rounds. Double up with seniors for another week.”
Kari nods, makes a note without looking up.
“Fine.” Callum leans back, chair creaking. “As long as everyone’s focused on their duties. Seems some of us have been ... distracted lately.”
The air goes dense. Static. No one moves.
I meet his gaze directly. Don’t blink. Don’t shift. “You have something to say, Callum?”
He holds my stare for three seconds before his eyes drop to the table. “Just making an observation.”
“Make it somewhere else.”
Kari’s pen stops scratching. She slides a report across the table, still not looking at me. “Grant called. No new leads on the missing hikers. Search and rescue is scaling back.”
I take the report, scan it quickly. Eight people still unaccounted for. No bodies. No trails. Just absence.
Callum’s jaw tightens. “While we’ve been dealing with other priorities.”
My hand flattens on the table. The room goes still.
“Anything else?” My voice drops lower, edges rougher.
Callum’s jaw tightens, but he shakes his head.
Rafe catches my eye from his corner position. The look that passes between us needs no words—two Alphas who understand what it costs to hold a pack together.
“The eastern perimeter needs reinforcement,” I say, refocusing. “Breach signatures are getting stronger. “Kari, take Rafe and scout the coordinates from Nova’s last reading. Where she came back.”
Something flashes across Kari’s face: quick, cold anger, before she schools her expression back to neutral. Her grip tightens on the pen. “Yes, Alpha.”
“Callum, pull Torres off patrol rotation. I want him on fence duty with Marcus.”
“And the half-fae?” Callum asks, voice carefully neutral.
I don’t react. Don’t explain. “She’s handling her own assignments.”
Silence stretches between us, taut as wire.
“Anything else?” I ask, scanning each face.
No one speaks. They wait, watching for the crack. For the explanation. For something to break the surface tension.
“Meeting’s done,” I say, gathering the reports. “Check back at sundown.”
No one moves right away. The air feels thick enough to cut.
I turn my back, start organizing maps.
Chairs scrape. Boots shuffle. The door opens and closes.
When I look up, the room is empty. But the pressure remains, hanging like smoke that won’t clear.
