"Mom…Is... is Uncle James dead?"
Kelvin's voice trembled as he whispered the question. He clung to his mother's cloak, his small fingers bloodstained from when he'd tried to shield his eyes too late. His wolf was young, barely awakened, but it felt the weight of loss. The corridor still echoed with the sounds of the brutal battle, the growls, the bone-snapping strikes, the sickening final crunch.
Her voice broke entirely then, and she crumpled forward with a sound that wasn't quite a sob—more like the kind of pain that lived in silence for too long and finally found a voice.
Kelsey's mother dropped beside her, wrapping trembling arms around her daughter's small frame. But Kelsey didn't lean in. She sat stiff in her mother's embrace, her eyes still locked on the body.
"I hated
