The clearing was a graveyard of chaos—torches guttering out, bodies strewn across the blood-soaked ground, the air thick with the metallic tang of death. My side burned where claws had torn through, each breath a sharp reminder of how close I’d come to not making it. Lucian’s arm stayed around me, steadying me as we staggered toward the hall, the pack trailing behind in a ragged, weary line. The bond between us pulsed, raw and insistent, grounding me even as my vision blurred at the edges.
Killian limped ahead, barking orders to the trackers—secure the perimeter, check for stragglers. His voice was hoarse but firm, like he was holding himself together through sheer stubbornness. I knew the feeling. The adrenaline was gone, leaving only pain and a nagging sense that this wasn’t over, no ma
