The clearing smelled of iron and damp wood. Three Silverfang bodies lay covered with cloaks near the council hall steps. No one had moved them yet. The wounded had been carried inside, and healers worked quickly in the lower chambers. The broken outer barrier remained jagged and open, as if the forest itself had bitten into it.
Mira stood a few feet away from the fallen warriors.
She did not look away.
Ryker stood beside her, blood drying along his flank where the blade had cut him earlier. He had refused treatment until every position was secured.
“This is not finished,” he said quietly.
“I know,” she replied.
The forest remained too quiet.
Nightshade had retreated, but not far. The scent lingered heavy on the air. Silverfang warriors reinforced the breach while others stood guard
