The return journey to Silverpine was long and painful.
The strike team limped home under the rising sun, carrying their wounded and their dead.
Two more wolves had fallen in the assault on Ironfang’s camp. Their bodies were wrapped with care and borne on makeshift litters. The air was thick with the scent of blood, sweat, and grief.
Elena walked beside Luke, her ribs still throbbing from Selene’s claws.
The claiming bond helped the wound knit faster, but the ache remained a sharp reminder of how close the battle had been. Through the mate link, she felt Luke’s exhaustion, his quiet fury at the losses, and the heavy burden of leadership pressing down on him.
He kept one arm around her waist, supporting her without making it obvious. Every few steps he would send a wave of love and st
