The smoke lingered long after the screaming stopped. It clung to the valley floor in thick gray coils, swirling around bodies both fallen and standing. Blood seeped into the cold earth, mingling with snowmelt and ash, forming rivers no one wanted to name.
The battle had ended—but nothing felt like victory.
Selene stood atop a rise of cracked stone where Tharos had fallen, her blade still glowing faintly in her grip. Her breath came in ragged bursts. Her hands ached from the force of her magic. Her heart…
Her heart wouldn’t settle.
She turned slowly, surveying the battlefield as wolves limped through the c*****e, helping one another. Frostveil healers rushed between the wounded. The dead were being pulled into rows—some already wrapped in torn banners. Others still lay as they fell, eye
