The scent of blood and antiseptic stung my nostrils as I stood over Elara, her chest rising and falling in shallow, painful breaths. The healers had worked their magic to the bone, stitching and mending, but the pallor of death's kiss lingered on her skin-a grim reminder of the fragility of life within our pack.
"Elara," I whispered, my voice a mere thread in the tapestry of hushed voices and soft footfalls that filled the infirmary. My fingers found hers, cold and limp in my grasp, yet I clung to them as if by sheer will I could anchor her to this world.
I felt the weight of silence press upon me, heavy with unspoken vows and the echoes of my heart's resolve. "I swear on the Moon Goddess herself," I vowed, low enough for only the spirits and shadows to bear witness, "I will protec
