AMBER POV
The battlefield was silent now.
No more snarls. No more growls of rage. No more cries of pain.
Just the distant rustling of the trees and the occasional crackle of residual electricity dissipating into the night air. The sharp scent of burnt fur and scorched flesh clung to the cold breeze, mixing with the metallic tang of blood.
The snow beneath my feet had turned red.
It had melted in some places, the heat from the raw energy I had unleashed searing through the frost, leaving behind patches of slush. In others, it remained pristine, untouched—white and glistening under the moonlight, as if the battle had never happened.
But it had.
And I had done this.
The bodies lay still, some twisted unnaturally from the force of the electricity that had torn through the
