CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Dawn breaks with a gentle whisper, its first light trickling through the pine canopy in ribbons of gold and rose. The cool mountain air carries the scent of dew-wet earth as the forest stirs awake around us. I stand on the precipice of relief and confusion, my eyes scanning the horizon where smoke should be billowing into the sky, but there is none.
The group huddles close, their breaths visible in the chill of the morning. Alpha Torin's warriors, ever vigilant, relax their rigid postures as the truth settles in: no fire rages in Solar Crest territory. The omegas, with their shoulders drooping from tension to relief, exchange bewildered glances that mirror my own turmoil.
"See," Kyle mutters to Love, his voice tinged with something that sounds like hope, "just a fals
