The battlefield smelled of ash and iron.
Sera stood where the golden cage had collapsed, the ground beneath her feet still warm from the Royal Blood energy that had contained the hunger's army. Around her, Ironcrest's wolves moved in grim silence, gathering their dead, collecting weapons, burning the vessels that the hunger had animated. The fires would burn for days. They had to — any remnant of the hunger's touch had to be reduced to ash, or it would try again.
Lumi and Elara were helping where they could. Lumi had insisted on carrying water to the wounded, her small frame dwarfed by the heavy buckets, her golden eyes dimmed but determined. Elara stayed close to her, watchful, the Elena-power within her thrumming just beneath the surface, ready to heal if needed.
Sera watched them and
