There’s no doubt in my voice. Because there can’t be. I turn and stride back out of the building, already shifting my focus from information to action. Conrad has assembled a group of fighters. Not volunteers. Not loosely trained.
These are Redwood Crossing’s strongest. Men and women who know what it means to defend territory. I step into the center of them without slowing.
“Listen up.”
The chatter stops instantly.
“We’ve got confirmed rogue presence along multiple entry points,” I continue. “They’re not attacking yet. They’re studying us. That means they’re looking for weaknesses.”
My gaze sweeps over the group.
“They don’t get to find any.”
A low murmur of agreement ripples through them.
I point toward the forest line. “We establish defensive lines along the north ridge, eastern access road, and southern perimeter. No gaps. No independent movement.”
One of the fighters speaks up. “What about the western side?”
“My terrain already limits access there,” I say. “We maintain patrol rotation, but primary pressure is coming from the other three points.”
Another voice cuts in. “How many are we facing?”
I don’t soften the answer.
“Damon’s entire pack.”
Silence follows. Not fear. Calculation. Good.
“That means this isn’t a skirmish,” I continue. “This is a full-scale territorial push. They’re going to test us until they find an opening, and then they’ll try to break through.”
I step closer, my voice dropping just enough to sharpen the edge of it.
“They don’t reach the town center.”
Agreement answers me. I nod once.
“Move.”
The group splits immediately, each team heading toward their assigned positions. I don’t follow right away. Conrad steps up beside me instead.
“You’re taking the outer lines.”
“Yeah.”
“And leaving the center to me.”
I glance at him. “You’ve got it covered?”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “I’ve been handling this town longer than you’ve been pretending you don’t care about it.”
A faint smirk tugs at my mouth.
“Fair enough.”
But then his expression shifts, something more serious settling in.
“And Tessa.”
