Elena’s POV
The aftermath of battle was always heavy with emotion, a strange mix of relief and despair. As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, casting the battlefield in an eerie twilight, the stench of blood lingered in the air, mingling with the quiet groans of the injured.
Oliver’s arm was still wrapped tightly around me as we walked back to the packhouse. His warmth and strength anchored me, even as the adrenaline of the fight began to fade.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice low and rough from exhaustion. His sharp eyes scanned me, lingering on the shallow claw marks on my arm.
“It’s nothing,” I replied, brushing it off. “You’re the one who looks like he went ten rounds with a rogue Alpha.”
He chuckled softly, though the sound was strained. “I’ve had worse. Still
