"Zion, is everything safe now?"
Arwen’s voice was soft, almost drowned out by the whisper of morning dew falling slowly between the pine trees.
The sky was still pale, traces of smoke from last night’s battle faintly visible at the edge of the forest.
Zion walked beside her, his black cloak swaying lightly in the wind. “For the most part, yes. The Sentinels are still guarding the northwest. But there are no signs of a follow-up attack.”
His tone was firm, though exhaustion was etched across his face.
Arwen looked at him, slowing her steps. “You haven’t slept all night.”
Zion gave a faint smile. “I couldn’t sleep while part of my pack lies in the healing quarters.” He turned to her. “And while my Luna nearly sacrificed herself in the middle of the battlefield.”
Arwen lowered her gaze
