Hope's POV.
The doors to the pack house burst open as Malakar charges inside, Lucian limp in his arms. I follow close behind him, my breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps as the scent of blood fills the air. Chaos meets us like a tidal wave. Warriors, young and old, are streaming in - some carried. others limping, bleeding, broken. Cries of pain echo through the halls. The floors are already slick with blood in some places, and the once-prestine medical area now looks like a war zone.
My eyes dart from face to face. Torn flesh, shattered bones, deep gashes - are everywhere. My hands itch to help. My heart is pounding.
"We need space!" I shout. "Get the worst of them to the back room - anyone who can walk, help the ones who can't! I need towels, sutures, morphine - move!"
Morgana and
