#Chapter 136: The Western Border

Ember The summons finds me in the training yard at dawn, sweat cooling on my neck and dirt ground into the seams of my boots. Captain Thorne delivers it without ceremony—the King requests my presence in the war room—and I follow him through corridors that still feel too polished for someone who was sparring ten minutes ago. King Alexander is already standing over the strategy table when I arrive, Kaine beside him. The map spread between them shows the western territories in careful detail, red markers dotting a stretch of disputed borderland where the Nightshade Pack and Ironwood Pack have been trading raids for weeks. Neither alpha will yield, and though the skirmishes haven't escalated into open war, the King's expression tells me how thin that line has become. "I need someone they'll respect," he says, tracing the border with one finger. "Someone who understands pack hierarchy, who's earned her rank through combat and not birthright. A mediator they can't dismiss as a pampered