The fighting had only just stopped and the ground still looked like it had not decided whether it belonged to the pack or the enemy anymore because blood was streaked across the dirt in dark wet lines and boot marks had cut through it in every direction while warriors moved through the aftermath with the kind of hard breathing that said their bodies were still expecting another strike.
No one had settled and no one had relaxed. The outer line had been forced back into place, but it felt unstable, and wolves were still rushing to close gaps and drag the injured clear while the scent of fear and aggression hung thick over the territory.
Christopher’s wolves had pulled back. That should have felt like relief but it didn’t. It felt like calculation or a hand withdrawn only because it had alr
