I sat in my truck, watching as Scuzball worked to establish a secure private connection to Cayro. If anyone would listen to me, it would be him. It took nearly ten minutes before a window finally popped up, revealing Cayro’s face. His dark brown hair was neatly trimmed into a military flat top, and a perfectly groomed short beard accented his sharp, angular features—something Star had insisted he grow out. A scar that started above his left eye bisected his sharp eyebrow and trailed down his cheek, giving him an even more formidable look. His emerald eyes blazed with power as they locked onto the camera, and a toothy grin spread across his face, revealing his elongated canines that never seemed to retract. I could see he was still in his dress uniform, with a general’s rank pinned to his lapels.

"Lyra! It’s good to hear from you!" he said, his voice warm with excitement.

"Hey Alpha," I replied softly, unable to hide my annoyance and agitation.

His eyebrows furrowed, and the smile quickly disappeared from his face. "What’s wrong?" he demanded, his tone shifting to concern.

I sighed heavily and slumped my shoulders. "Andrew recalled me back to active duty," I huffed.

"He what…" Cayro growled, his voice taking on an inhuman tone as glimmering silver scales rippled across his features before fading. I knew he wouldn’t take the news well; he had always looked out for me, almost like a brother. Not by blood, but because he had been there when I needed someone most.

"He recalled me back to active duty," I reiterated, "and he pretty much drafted my new pack into active-duty status."

"Damn it… I told him to leave you out of this. Why in the nine draconian hells did he ignore my request?" Cayro growled, his voice filled with frustration. "Star! Get in here!"

A moment later, Star appeared, holding Celestia in her arms, concern etched across her face as she looked between her husband and the screen. When she saw me, her expression softened into a smile.

"Lyra! Why are you calling? We weren’t supposed to talk until tomorrow, once you reached the I-76 corridor," she said, her tone laced with worry.

"Andrew recalled her back to active-duty status and drafted her new pack," Cayro growled, his voice low and menacing.

"He did what?!" Star growled, her tone shifting to shock and anger. Her amethyst eyes blazed as she transformed into her half-black draconian, half-human form. Handing Celestia to Cayro, she stormed out of the room, growling in fury. Celestia, too, shifted into her draconian form, a blend of Cayro’s silver and Star’s iridescent black. The small child pointed a tiny talon in the direction her mother had gone, looking up at her father with wide eyes.

"Momma mad," she squeaked, her voice so small and raspy that it made my heart swell with affection. She was the cutest little draconian ever.

"Oh yes, very much so, sweetheart," Cayro replied, his voice softening as he addressed his daughter.

I heard Star’s footsteps as she marched back into Cayro’s office, her voice sharp as she spoke to someone on the phone. I gave Cayro a questioning look, wondering who she was talking to. He mouthed the word "Andrew" while miming a phone with his hand.

"Damn it, Andrew! I asked you not to include her and her team in the draft!" I heard her yell into the phone.

There was a pause before she roared again. "They are a brand-new pack! They’re not ready to be established as a unit!"

Another silence followed, the tension thick in the air.

"What do you mean you had no choice?" she growled.

The next moment, something smashed into the wall, and Star let out a roar of rage. Cayro’s eyes widened at whatever he had just witnessed. Without a word, he reached into his desk drawer, pulled out a brand-new phone, and placed it on the desk, clearly anticipating what might happen next.

“How many does that make this month?” I asked softly, the weight of the situation pressing down on me.

Cayro held up three fingers in response. Star had always had a short fuse, and whenever someone really aggravated her, she had a tendency to throw whatever she was holding at the time. It used to be wrenches when she was still working in the shop regularly, but now that she was out of that environment, her cell phone had become the object of choice.

“You aren’t going to believe this bullshit…” Star growled, her frustration palpable as she reentered the room. Cayro looked at her, his expression calm but curious.

“You know that not much surprises me anymore, love,” he replied coolly, trying to temper her anger.

“He’s assigned Lyra and her team to complete the mission he sent a National Guard unit to handle,” she huffed, clearly exasperated.

“The same mission that I recommended he send your unit to do?” Cayro asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“The very same,” Star confirmed, her tone laden with irritation.

“Go figure…” Cayro muttered. “So, Lyra and her pack are to close off the I-76 corridor. I swear, he’s getting more and more senile every day.”

“More like he’s on a power trip… Just wait till I call my father about this,” Star growled, her voice simmering with rage.

“He already knows,” I interjected, immediately regretting it as the words left my mouth.

The look Cayro shot me made it clear I should have kept that detail to myself. An ear-splitting shriek erupted from Star, followed by a flash of purple light and the sound of an explosion. Papers floated through the air as Cayro pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Celestia clapped her hands excitedly, her laughter filling the room with an innocent joy that contrasted sharply with the tension.

“Well, I guess I’ll need to order a new set of training manuals and a bookshelf,” Cayro sighed irritably. “What did Dr. Zaraki say about the situation?”

“That he couldn’t step in and stop it,” I answered, the frustration evident in my voice.

“Figures… He doesn’t want to see what happened with the old government happen again,” Cayro remarked, shaking his head.

“That was exactly what he said,” I confirmed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me.

“Who’s your parent unit?” Cayro asked, his tone resigned.

“We are…” Star huffed, stepping back into view of the camera, her expression a mixture of anger and resolve.

“Well, that simplifies things. We’ll get the mission completed and then get her and her pack back on track with their original tasking,” Cayro declared, bouncing Celestia on his knee as he spoke. “What do you need from us to get this accomplished?”

“First and foremost, we need a medical evac for the injured soldiers. Then we’ll need a permanent team to hold the corridor so we can move on to our next task,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Let me see what I can come up with, Lyra. Just get to the objective. I’ll get what you need,” he ordered, his voice calm but firm.

I nodded, waving goodbye before ending the call. I turned to Scuzball, who was already jotting something down in his notebook.

“What’s the count up to now?” I asked him, a hint of humor creeping into my voice despite the tension.

“Forty-seven this year,” he replied with an amused tone.

I could only imagine how expensive Star and Cayro’s phone bill must be at this point. Climbing out of my truck, I spotted Steve approaching. I gave him a quick wave, leaning against my sleeper with my arms crossed. The call with Cayro hadn’t gone as planned, but at least they agreed with me.

“I was just looking for you. Are you alright?” Steve asked, concern evident in his voice.

“I’d be better if the people I care about would stop throwing me into positions I didn’t want,” I huffed, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“I noticed you were talking to someone as I was walking over. What’s going on?” he queried, his brow furrowing.

“Just got off the call with our newly assigned parent unit. Needless to say, our commander isn’t very happy with our commander-in-chief. He’s going to send us help so we can get back to our original job,” I explained, the tension still lingering in my voice.

“So, once we complete this mission, we won’t be considered a military unit anymore?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“No… we’ll still be a military unit. We’ll just fall under General Zaraki’s command,” I answered, my tone betraying my sense of defeat.

“Since when did Dr. Zaraki become a general?” Steve asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“I keep forgetting that you don’t know all the details about the Zaraki family. My uncle isn’t the general I’m referring to. It’s Cayro Zaraki,” I explained, feeling the weight of the situation settle in once more.

“Oh! I was beginning to think there was another Zaraki I didn’t know about,” Steve said, his tone lightening slightly.

This section is packed with tension and emotional complexity. Lyra is delivering difficult news, and her team’s reactions range from anger to confusion to loyalty. The challenge here is to ensure that each character's emotional response is conveyed clearly, while maintaining the flow and the gravity of the situation. The focus should be on highlighting the emotional weight of the draft, the shift from civilian life to a military role, and the loyalty dynamics within the pack.

“Cayro is the commander for the 102nd Airborne Division while Star commands the 588th Night Witches Stealth Wing. We’re now one of their units,” I explained, feeling the weight of the words as I spoke.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“So, I’m assuming we’re still doing this mission then?” Steve asked, his tone resigned but steady.

“Yep, and I have a feeling the team isn’t going to like the news,” I said coldly, bracing myself for the backlash.

“Most definitely not. Catalina isn’t taking the news well, and neither am I. I can only imagine how the rest of the team will react,” Steve replied pointedly.

We walked to the middle of the trucks, and I let out a sharp whistle, cutting through the chatter and getting everyone’s attention. They all gathered around me, speaking over one another, their questions and concerns swirling in the air. I raised my hand, waiting patiently for them to quiet down. It took a few moments, but eventually, the group settled. Clearing my throat, I spoke loud and clear so everyone could hear me.

“As of thirty minutes ago, we have all been drafted into service with the FS Military, directly by the President himself. We’re now officially tasked with completing the mission that was originally assigned to the 833rd Engineering Company. Everyone who volunteered for this team, and the dragons, are now part of the newly formed 781st Transportation Pack under the 102nd Airborne Division,” I declared, the gravity of the situation sinking in as I watched their faces.

“What in the flying wolf’s tail do you mean we’re now a military unit?” Tyler blurted out, his voice laced with disbelief.

“Since when can the president just draft a group of wolves into the service? I thought only official packs…” Sasha began, but then trailed off, realizing the implications.

“That’s how…” I said coldly. “He used the fact that I just created a pack to enact the draft on us.”

“That’s some utter bullshit…” Cain spat out, his anger barely contained.

“Hell yea, it is,” Charlotte echoed, her frustration palpable.

“We’re supposed to be civilian contractors, not combatants,” Azura huffed, her voice trembling with outrage.

I allowed them to vent, knowing they needed to get their frustrations out before I continued.

“At this point, we don’t have much of an option. We’re stuck in the middle of no man’s land with a group of rogues at our backs. I don’t want you guys to jump ship only to get hurt or killed by them or something else out here,” I said, my tone steady but heavy with concern.

“Then what’s your plan?” Abel asked angrily, his eyes challenging me to provide a solution.

I let out a sigh, looking at all of them. They had every right to be angry. They weren’t trained to be a military force. Their basic firearms training was nothing compared to what was needed to be ready for combat.

“We’re going to gather what’s left of the 833rd and their equipment. Then we’ll make our way to the I-76 corridor as planned. From there, we’ll do what we can to barricade the corridor. In the meantime, a medical evac team will be en route to get the injured out. Hopefully, our parent unit will bring a proper military team to take over so we can get back to Des Moines,” I explained, trying to instill some sense of purpose in them.

I let them stew on that for a moment before continuing. “Once we’re back in Des Moines, anyone who doesn’t want to be part of this pack, I will release you from the bonds,” I declared, my voice resolute.

“Wait, what?” Jake asked, surprise evident in his voice. “You’d be willing to let us leave the pack?”

“Yes, you’re not my slaves or prisoners. I would never force you to stay if you chose to leave. This pack is all volunteer-based,” I answered, my tone softening slightly.

Jake looked at Kira before offering his hand to her. She took it, and together they stepped forward.

“Wherever you go, Alpha, we will go. Military or just a pack, we will stand with you,” he declared, his voice strong with conviction.

My heart skipped a beat at his declaration. It meant more to me than I could express, especially coming from an Omega.

“Ass kisser,” Cain mumbled under his breath.

“If you knew what she’s done for Kira and me, you’d do the same,” Jake growled, his eyes beginning to glow with an eerie yellow light.

“Is that a challenge?” Cain growled back, his posture shifting as he prepared to escalate.

“If that’s what you want it to be, then yes,” Jake responded, his voice low as he began to shift, his body tensing in anticipation.

“ENOUGH!” I barked, stepping forward with a surge of alpha power that rippled through the group like a shockwave. Several of them crumpled to the ground under the force of it, their knees buckling as the weight of my magic pressed down on them. Only Jake, Kira, Mac, and Major Pixiewolf remained standing. I blinked, realizing that I might have overdone it. I quickly reined in my power, pulling it back into myself as I looked around at them, seeing fear and worry reflected in their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, my voice a stark contrast to the power I had just unleashed.

“Why are you sorry, Alpha?” Steve asked from where he knelt on the ground near me.

“Because I didn’t mean to release my power on you like that,” I replied, feeling a pang of guilt.

“It was necessary,” Steve said, still looking at the ground. “We don’t have time to sit here bickering and fighting about things that are out of our control.”

“That’s not the point, Steve. I don’t want you all to fear me,” I said, my voice tinged with concern.

“They’re not afraid of you, Lyra. They’re afraid of what the future holds now that everything’s changed,” he added, lifting his gaze to meet mine.

I looked around the group, seeing the truth in his words. They weren’t cowering because they feared me; they were terrified of what lay ahead, of the uncertain future that now loomed over us. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my own nerves as I considered what to say next.

“Stand up,” I ordered gently.

Slowly, they rose to their feet, still avoiding eye contact, their expressions a mix of unease and resignation. My outburst had gotten their attention, but now I needed to bring them back together, to remind them that we were in this fight as one. I let out a long breath, gathering my thoughts before I spoke again.

“We are all we have right now. Whether you’re officially a member of this pack or not, I want to do what’s right by you. I will take care of each and every one of you. If that means we’re a military unit, a team of insane truck drivers, or just a group of friends with a common goal, then so be it. I don’t like this any more than you do. I’ve already made that clear to the president and our new chain of command,” I said, my voice steady as I looked each of them in the eyes.

I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around Cain in a tight hug, then moving to Abel, and finally embracing each and every one of the wolves standing with me. I wanted them to feel the strength of our bond, to know that I was with them, no matter what.

“As you all know, I never wanted to be an Alpha. I certainly didn’t want to be in charge of a military unit, but here we are. We’re not without supplies, and we have the means to survive. We’re Luna-be-damned werewolves with the meanest and toughest trucks on the face of this planet. We’re also flatbed truck drivers. What do we do best?” I shouted, trying to ignite the spark of determination in them.

“We improvise and overcome the stupidity thrown at us!” Kira shouted back, her voice filled with conviction.

“Make the impossible possible?” Tyler chimed in, his tone growing more confident.

“Exactly!” I declared, feeling the energy in the group start to shift.

“Make chaos our bitch!” Azura added with a grin, her excitement infectious.

I pointed at her with a grin. “Perfect!” I exclaimed, the tension in the air beginning to dissipate.

One by one, everyone began to add their own statements, their voices growing louder, stronger. I could see them coming together, finding strength in our shared purpose. Maybe this was what we needed—a common goal to bond us, to make us stronger.

“If the president wants us to be a unit, then let’s be the best Luna-damned truck-driving unit there is!” I shouted, feeling the fire in my belly burn brighter.

“10-4!” they shouted in unison, their voices echoing into the night.

I shifted, feeling the familiar pull of my wolf form taking over, and threw my head back, letting out a howl that pierced the silent night air. One by one, they joined me, our eerie echoes filling the dark sky, a symphony of defiance and unity.

As the last howl faded, I felt the bonds I had created back in Des Moines strengthen, a warm pulse in my mind telling me that these were my wolves. We had come together in a time of need, we had survived meeting dragons, and we had smashed through barriers and ambushes. We would survive this too.

Lowering my head, I gazed at the wolves standing before me—different shades of brown, black, grey, and white, their coats a mix of solid colors and unique patterns. Each of them was important to me. Just because they didn’t have military training didn’t mean they couldn’t survive or fight. We had pack tactics, claws, and teeth.

The sound of clapping coming from the front of the convoy interrupted my thoughts, pulling my attention in that direction.

“That was a damn good speech there, Alpha Acosta. If I were a wolf, I’d want to join your pack,” Stoneclaw announced with a devastating grin. A couple of dragons trailed behind him, leading a group of ragged soldiers who looked like they’d been through hell and back.

“Actually, it may be possible for you to join her pack,” Mac called out, her voice carrying as she popped her head out from between two military trucks.

“I doubt that’s possible for a dragon to join a pack of wolves,” Stoneclaw scoffed, rolling his eyes as if the very idea was absurd.

“I was able to join. I’m an official member of the pack,” Mac declared, stepping out from between the trucks and planting her hands on her hips, her stance defiant.

“That’s because you’re a wolf…” Stoneclaw huffed, clearly dismissive of the idea.

“I’m a fucking phoenix, you overgrown lot lizard,” Mac growled, her hair igniting into flames just to drive the point home.

Stoneclaw’s eyebrows shot up his forehead in surprise as the reality sank in. He turned to look at me, his expression questioning. I simply lifted my left hand and showed him the back of it, where the phoenix brand glowed faintly on my skin.

“Well, I’ll be damned. I didn’t know a wolf pack could have outside species in them,” he said, still processing this new information.

“You learn something new every day,” Azura chimed in, a playful lilt in her voice.

“I… see this,” Stoneclaw replied, still somewhat taken aback.

I turned my attention back to my wolves, ready to get everyone back to the task at hand. “Mac, how are the trucks coming along?” I asked over my shoulder.

“I’ve gotten them up and running. All they need now are drivers,” she answered, sounding pleased with her work.

“Good. Everyone, help the dragons get the 833rd into their trucks. Make sure those who are injured are comfortable. If we need to, strip your bunks and place them in your sleepers. Jake, once we’re rolling, you take the lead. I’ll bring up the rear—I don’t have headlights at the moment.”

“10-4,” they barked in unison before scattering to their tasks.

As we approached the soldiers, their eyes filled with fear and trepidation. Stepping up to a pair who were struggling with a makeshift stretcher carrying an injured soldier, I gently knelt down and scooped the wounded woman into my arms. I carried her over to my truck, where Mac was already waiting at the passenger side door. She quickly climbed in, stripped my bed, and laid a towel over the mattress to protect it. Together, we carefully settled the injured soldier into my sleeper.

Another soldier approached, declaring that he was the unit’s medic and that he would ride with me to tend to the woman. Mac, however, wasn’t having any of it. She flatly told him no, her voice carrying the authority of a marine, and stated that she would look after the woman while I drove. The medic opened his mouth to argue, but one look at Mac’s raised eyebrow had him grumbling as he backed down to check on the other injured soldiers.

Before long, everyone was settled into position. There were a few minor issues with the military trucks, but with Mac’s help and a couple of soldiers, we got them operational enough to roll. Once everyone indicated we were green to go, I gave the order to move out.

I waited until the convoy had passed me before releasing the brakes and shifting into gear. We were going to take it slow and steady, ensuring that the unit wouldn’t be left behind and that we all stayed together. The ride was long and arduous as we trundled along the treacherous highway.

In the distance, we saw the flicker of firelight dancing through the pitch-black night. I had ordered everyone to run dark, except for Jake, so we wouldn’t draw unnecessary attention. Thankfully, our night vision helped navigate the darkness; without it, this would have been an even more perilous journey.

We had to stop once when one of the military trucks finally gave up the ghost. When Mac got out to see if she could fix it, her assessment was less than optimistic. Her exact words to the entire fleet were that the truck had gone into a "thermal nuclear meltdown" and there was no way she could fix it without an entirely new engine.

It took us roughly fifteen minutes to move the soldiers' gear into the remaining convoy vehicles and find them places to ride. Some squeezed into the MCV, while others found spots in the rigs or the remaining military trucks. It was a chaotic but efficient operation, with everyone too tired to complain.

By the time we finally reached our objective, it had taken nearly five hours. The road had thrown a few more obstacles our way, but nothing like the nightmare we’d faced in York. We made camp in an old highway maintenance pull-off just west of the interchange between the two interstates. It was nearly one in the morning, and everyone was dog-tired, ready to collapse where they stood.

After speaking with Steve, Stoneclaw, and the commander of the 833rd, we set up a rotational night guard to ensure we wouldn’t get ambushed again. Being the highest-ranking officer on site, no one argued with me. I ordered that the injured soldier remain in my truck for the night, where she’d be more comfortable until we could establish a proper medical area. The unit medic assured me he would check on her during his rounds.

With everything finally in place, I grabbed my go bag and headed to the MCV to bunk with Mac. Steve and Pixiewolf were already sharing his room, so I took the opportunity to grab a quick shower before joining Mac. When I entered her room, I found her already face-down on her bed, still partially dressed, softly snoring.

Climbing onto the upper bunk, I made myself as comfortable as I could. The exhaustion hit me like a freight train, and I passed out almost immediately, the day's events fading away as sleep overtook me.