The pack didn't celebrate.
There were no cheers when we returned from the Hollow.
No feast.
No victory songs.
Only exhaustion.
Only grief.
Elias was dead.
The Hollow was sealed again.
And nobody believed it would stay that way.
For three days, Blackwood moved like a wounded animal.
Quiet.
Watchful.
Afraid.
Draven barely left my side.
If I walked to the training yard, he followed.
If I met with the elders, he was there.
If I woke in the middle of the night shaking from another nightmare, his arms were already around me before I could speak.
The Hollow had changed him.
Maybe it had changed all of us.
The silver scar on my palm burned whenever the Moon appeared.
Draven's matching scar stretched across his chest like pale roots beneath his skin.
Neither of us talked about
