POV: Thalia
Rumors in a wolf pack travel faster than patrol reports, and by noon the version circulating through the barracks has already mutated twice from the original event.
I hear the first mutation from Garrett at the midday brief — Luna projected a wave that affected six wolves simultaneously. The second arrives through Rosalie — Luna lost control and the kitchen was evacuated.
Neither version is accurate. Both are dangerous enough to require correction before dinner.
"Open pack meeting." I tell Kieran in his office doorway. "Main hall, this afternoon."
"How much do you plan to disclose?" He sets down the Dravec file and gives me full attention.
"Everything that is known." I lean against the frame. "Partial disclosure feeds the mutations."
"The pack will be afraid." He reads the cost of full transparency without needing me to name it.
"The pack is already afraid — I would rather they be afraid of facts than rumors." I hold steady.
"Do you want me in the room?" He offers his presence without assuming it is required.
"I want you in the front row where they can see you not panicking." I allow a fraction of warmth.
"I can manage composed." He almost smiles. "Composed is my entire professional identity."
"Then bring your professional identity and sit where the nervous wolves can read it." I straighten.
"I will be there at three-fifty." He picks up the Dravec file with the calm I need from him.
The main hall fills by three-forty-five. Two hundred wolves in tiered seating — patrol teams in back, senior staff in front, families clustered through the middle.
Kieran sits front row center with his tablet closed on his knee. Lysander takes the seat beside him. Caroline is with the younger children in the family quarters — Dylan included, by deliberate design.
I step onto the platform and let the hall settle into quiet on its own terms rather than commanding it, because wolves who choose to listen remember more than wolves who are told to.
"You felt it this morning." I begin with the fact they already carry in their bodies.
"Some of you felt it directly." I scan the room for Marcus, Jenna, and the others who were present.
"Most of you heard about it within hours." I acknowledge the speed of compound communication.
"What you felt was my daughter." I name the source before speculation names it for me.
"Luna projected an emotional wave during breakfast." I deliver it with clinical accuracy.
"Duration was under ninety seconds and the projection was involuntary." I hold the room.
"Three pack members experienced it directly." I list the number without minimizing it.
The hall absorbs the confirmation with the particular stillness of wolves processing a threat they felt before they understood it. I watch faces — fear in the middle rows, calculation in the back, forced calm from senior staff.
"I will now tell you what is known." I fold my hands behind my back and continue.
"Luna's empathic ability has developed beyond passive reading." I name the progression.
"She can now project emotional states outward." I let the capability register without softening.
"This morning's incident was the first projection affecting multiple people." I hold firm.
"It was involuntary, brief, and Luna contained it almost immediately." I add the context.
"Now I will tell you what is unknown." I shift to the second truth without pausing.
"The full scope of the ability." I list the first unknown and let it register across the hall.
"The ceiling of its range and whether it will continue developing." I list the rest together.
"What I will not use is the word threat." I lower my voice by a degree and lean forward.
"Not because the word is inaccurate in all contexts." I meet the eyes that need this honesty.
"Because applying it to a young girl before we understand her ability is reckless." I hold.
"Your fear is real." I address the room's emotional center directly and without deflection.
"I am not standing here to tell you that fear is wrong." I scan the rows methodically.
"I am standing here to tell you that fear without information is a worse threat." I pause.
"Than anything my daughter projected this morning." I finish the sentence and let it land.
"Luna is not a danger to this pack." I deliver the first truth with full Luna authority.
"Luna is also not a category this pack has encountered before." I deliver without flinching.
"Both of those facts will remain true simultaneously." I hold both in the space between my hands.
"Your job is to hold both." I address the pack directly. "Not one at the expense of the other."
"What measures are being taken?" Garrett stands from the third row with professional concern.
"Elara has implemented a three-tier observation protocol." I nod toward the healer in the front.
"Green, amber, red — escalating based on specific physiological triggers." I outline the framework.
"Luna is aware of the protocol and has consented." I add the detail that matters for trust.
"She is not monitored against her will — she requested the support." I let that reframe settle.
"And the approaching full moon?" A patrol wolf in the back row voices the calendar fear.
"The protocol accounts for lunar amplification." I confirm without revealing the Dylan correlation.
"Elara's team will provide overnight monitoring during the three-day window." I close the point.
The room holds. Two hundred wolves processing parallel truths — their Luna's daughter is powerful and unclassified, their Luna is transparent, and the compound just became a place where the existing rules may not cover what happens next.
"I trust you with this information because you are my pack." I deliver the close directly.
"Not because you earned it today — because you earned it across three years." I step back.
A hand rises in the back row. The room shifts as heads turn toward the figure standing against the rear wall — a man whose presence carries the weight of authority that predates my own.
Magnus stands with his arms folded and his expression carrying the neutral assessment of a former Alpha who has been calculating variables since before this meeting was called.
"Luna Thalia." He pitches his voice to carry across the full hall without effort.
"You have addressed your daughter's abilities with admirable transparency." He pauses.
"I have one question before we adjourn." He unfolds his arms and lets his hands rest at his sides.
"Does the new Fenris child present a comparable anomaly?" He delivers it into the silent hall.
Two hundred wolves turn from Magnus to me in a wave that crosses the room like a current, and the question hangs in the air with the specific gravity of a man who already knows the answer and is forcing me to deliver it publicly.