RIVEN
The grand hall was disaster after a tempest – shattered furniture and blood on the flagstones, bodies hauled from the wreckage by weary warriors. I was in the middle of it all, attempting to log and assess the damage in my head while every bone screamed with exhaustion I couldn’t afford.
“One more tally,” Marcus said, treading toward me with a blood-soaked book in his hands, his expression grim. "Thirty-seven dead. Fifty-two injured; twenty of them critical. A dozen more unaccounted for, apprehended or run off in the confusion."
The numbers were like physical blows. Thirty-seven of my pack members, killed because I betrayed Lena. Fifty-two more who were injured, and some may never fully recover. The families I had shattered, the lives I had ruined — because of a choice I’d made.
