But I’m just a human?

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: BLOOD ON THE BORDERS**

The wind no longer carried just the scent of pine and wet soil. It carried tension. Metal. Distant blood.

The days after the first cracks saw more than pokes. They saw punches.

On the western ridge, a coordinated attack pushed past the outer patrol. Ten wolves—foreign, fast, and vicious. Gamma Selene's unit intercepted them just in time. The air erupted into chaos—claws met bone, spells crackled through the trees. A lightning sigil exploded beneath Selene's feet, hurling her back. Koda arrived moments later, telekinetically launching an enemy into a boulder. The thud echoed for miles.

Selene stood, blood running down her brow. "Next time, bring cookies. Not lightning."

On the southern border, Beta Myles and Delta Rowan led a team that found a caravan of rogue wolves disguised as traders. Their scents were wrong. Their stories weaker.

When the first blade was drawn, it didn't stop until every enemy was unconscious.

None were killed—on orders from Alpha Dorian. Not yet. Not until they knew more.

But the wounds were deep. Jace took a claw to the chest. Tala's ankle was bitten clean through. Warriors were sent to the infirmary, blood soaking into sheets, groans echoing through the halls.

"You alright?" Orion asked Nova, dabbing a cut on her jaw.

Nova winced. "I'll live. But these people fight like they have nothing to lose."

"They don't," Orion murmured.

In the aftermath, the pack gathered. No celebration. Just grit. Just resolve.

Koda trained harder. The chant of Solstice was now muscle memory—he and Tristian speaking it every dawn until sparks glowed between their palms.

One morning, their powers finally clicked. They levitated above the training field, bodies wreathed in solar flame and moonlight mist, the earth humming beneath them.

"Holy hell," Orion whispered from below. "We're gonna need bigger shields."

Despite the injuries, morale held. Because every time someone fell, someone else helped them rise.

Zara tended to the injured, her hands gentle but firm.

Nova reinforced the armory with traps and sigils she carved herself.

Reed, silent and distant, fought harder than anyone—never speaking unless spoken to. Watching. Waiting.

The council convened again. Alpha Dorian's voice carried across the chamber.

"They want us to fear. They want us scattered. But Raven Blood is not a flickering candle. We are fire. We are storm. And we will not be moved."

Outside, clouds brewed.

The storm was not waiting.

It was coming.