Tyla’s POV
The moon hovered low over the horizon, swollen and red like a wounded eye. It cast its eerie glow across the entire pack compound, painting the shattered courtyard in shades of blood and shadow. Bodies were being carried away, healers rushing from one injured wolf to another, the metallic scent of blood drifting thick in the air. And at the center of it all stood Arthur.
My fated mate.
The future Alpha King.
And the man who just murdered Seraphina with his bare hands.
But he didn’t look victorious. He looked… broken.
His chest rose and fell violently, like he was fighting something inside him—a beast, a memory, a ghost. His hands were still stained with Seraphina’s blood, dried flakes on his knuckles. His eyes, once a molten gold, now flickered like a dying fire.
I took a
