The battlefield was eerily silent.
Smoke rose from torn earth and shattered trees, and faint violet energy crackled across the scars left by the Fissure King’s army. Moonmarked wolves moved cautiously among the wounded, their crescent marks flickering weakly from exhaustion.
Lukas sat in the center of the clearing, his hybrid powers still pulsing faintly. He had survived the clash, but every strike had tested his limits.
Kaerin approached, her blade sheathed but her eyes sharp. “We held the line,” she said, scanning the forest edges. “But we lost too many.”
Rovan’s silver eyes were steady, but his expression was somber. “The Fissure King tested us. He learned… and he will return stronger.”
Aric’s starlight flared faintly along his shoulders. “And we’ll be ready. But only if Lukas cont
