GREYHALL CROSSING — LUNARIS PACK MEETING ROOM — 7:00 AM
"Who authorized the sleep rotation?"
"I did, Alpha."
Renwick's eyes landed on Gavyn the way a buyer inspects a horse he hasn't decided on yet. "And who authorized you to authorize anything?"
"Princess Guinevere, Alpha. And Tyler Draven, acting Beta at that time."
"And you ran eight hundred miles on her say-so."
"Yes, Alpha."
"Eight hundred miles. With five men who have never made that run. For a summit you had zero preparation for. Because a princess who has never commanded a pack told you to."
"Yes, Alpha."
The answer came back identical each time. Same cadence. Same volume. Same complete absence of the defensive bullshit that Renwick was fishing for with every word. Gavyn was giving him nothing to hook because there was nothing to hook. The answers were clean and the man delivering them had already made peace with every single decision.
"Who packed the supplies?"
