Rowan's POV
"Alpha Marcus." Rowan gripped the other Alpha's forearm, feeling the cold steel beneath worn leather. "Everything set?"
Marcus gave a sharp nod. Both men wore full battle gear, chainmail beneath hardened steel plates, traveling cloaks pulled back from their shoulders, weapons sharpened and ready. The courtyard buzzed with controlled movement as two hundred handpicked warriors formed ranks. Scarlet Howlers held the left flank while Duskwood claimed the right, each group disciplined and silent. No flags flew overhead. No war drums echoed. Only the soft scrape of blades being checked and bowstrings tested.
