The dawn after the long, bloody night rose slow and mournful over the Silverfang territory. A hush blanketed the land, as if nature itself was holding its breath. Smoke still curled from the wreckage of crumbled towers, and the metallic scent of blood clung to the air like a curse. Packs moved like scattered ghosts among the debris, clearing the ruins and tending to the wounded, a grim reminder of the battle’s toll.
Isla stood at the edge of the main courtyard, her gaze trailing over the devastation. The once proud grounds were littered with ash, shattered stone, and the broken remnants of lives that could never be reclaimed. Warriors hauled debris, healers whispered incantations over the injured, and yet… it wasn’t over. She could feel it deep in her bones a storm that hadn’t passed, onl
