The pack council had never been so full.

Warriors lined the walls.

Kitchen workers stood beside elders.

Hunters crowded the rear doors.

No one spoke above a whisper.

At the center of the hall stood Marissa Vale and Gavin Holt.

Separate.

Guarded.

Unranke

By sunset, Crimson Fang knew the truth. Not every detail yet, but enough: Elara’s parents had not abandoned the evacuation order. They had been pulled out of safety, internal access had been used, and pack leadership had failed them.

The lie was gone.

Elara packed less than she expected: clothes, weapons, her father’s old knife, her mother’s shawl, and the notebook she had started after the funeral.

Everything else stayed.

Not because it meant nothing.

Because the cabin did.

Elara stood in the doorway with one