The conference room hummed with the low murmur of voices, the familiar cadence of a council meeting. I was halfway through a discussion about rogue patrols on the southern border when the doors burst open, and my Beta, Thomas, rushed in. His face, usually a mask of calm composure, was pale and etched with worry.

"Alpha," he said, his voice a low, frantic whisper. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's an emergency. You're needed."

A cold prickle of unease ran down my spine. An emergency could ...