"And the scent signature?" Brynn's voice is graveled, roughened by decades of winter air.
"Pack-born. Male. Young."
Silence drops like a guillotine.
Gideon's the first to break it. "Then we hunt him down and end this. Tonight."
"We don't know who it is yet."
"Does it matter?" Gideon steps forward, boots grinding against stone. "Three humans are dead. Livestock mutilated on our own land. Every day we wait, we risk exposure."
"Rushing in blind gets more wolves killed," I say. "We track. We confirm. Then we move."
"Track." Gideon spits the word like it's poison. "You've been tracking for six weeks, Alden. Meanwhile, the humans are closing in. State wildlife brought in a biologist. She's already been to the boundary."
Brynn shifts her weight, staff tapping once against stone. "Is this true?"
"The sheriff mentioned it," I admit. "She's documenting predator behavior. Standard protocol for wildlife attacks."
"Standard protocol puts her twenty feet from our territory." Gideon's voice rises, sharp enough to cut. "And you're doing nothing to stop it."
"I'm managing the situation."
"You're failing border control." He turns to the other elders, playing to the crowd. "Hunters slip through our patrols. Humans camp on our doorstep. And now one of our own is killing livestock like it's open season." He swings back to me. "This is what happens when an Alpha prioritizes diplomacy over strength."
Marek clears his throat. "Gideon's not wrong about the borders. We've had three breaches in the last month alone."
"Small breaches," I say. "Hikers, lost campers. No one's pushed deep enough to see anything they shouldn't."
"Yet." Lydia Townsend steps forward, her red hair pulled back tight. She's younger than the others, barely forty, but her voice carries weight. "What happens when this biologist decides to cross the boundary? When she finds tracks we can't explain?"
"Then we redirect her."
"Redirect." Gideon laughs, bitter and sharp. "You mean let her walk away with evidence? With photos and GPS coordinates and enough data to bring federal wildlife down on our heads?"
"I mean we don't slaughter a state employee and trigger a manhunt that ends with this pack in crosshairs." I hold his gaze. "We're not starting a war over one human."
"We're already in a war!" Gideon slams his palm against the stone. "Someone in this pack is ripping through livestock and humans like there's no consequence. And instead of hunting him down, you're worried about protecting some outsider scientist who doesn't belong here."
"I'm worried about protecting this pack."
"Then act like it." Gideon steps closer, close enough I can smell the adrenaline coming off him in waves. "Execute the rogue. Lock down the borders. Remove the human threat before she brings more. Or step aside and let someone with the stomach for leadership take over."
The clearing goes dead quiet.
Brynn taps her staff twice. "Gideon. That's enough."
"Is it?" He doesn't look away from me. "How many more bodies before it's enough, Matriarch? How many more mistakes before we admit this Alpha isn't fit to lead?"
Ronan shifts his weight. "The rogue's a pack member. We can't execute him without a trial. It's our law."
"Law doesn't matter when the pack's at risk," Gideon snaps.
"Law is what separates us from rogues," I say, voice low and steady. "We follow it, or we're no better than the killer we're hunting."
Gideon opens his mouth to argue?—
And then the wind shifts.
