The last clash ended. Shadow Pack warriors moved through the trampled snow and secured the prisoners.
Once the frenzy broke, the rogue army became rows of shivering, wounded wolves waiting for the Elders.
Judgment took place on the Altar of the First Moon, a flat black monolith at the heart of the citadel. Melting, blood-stained snow ran down its sides.
The High Council gathered under torchlight. Every delegate from the Summit stood in a silent ring around the altar.
Ember was first.
Guards dragged her forward, her shattered arms bound against her body. She spat at their feet and glared at me.
"You think you've won?" she shrieked at me, her voice cracking. "He still loved me! He chose me over you, you sanctimonious b***h! You'll always be second!"
The High Elder raised his hand. "Em
