The world is still ringing when the light fades.
Silver dust hangs in the air like snowfall. The clearing glows with the aftershock, trembling under my hands. I push myself upright with shaking arms and spit dirt out of my mouth. My lungs burn as I cough through the shimmering haze.
Behind me several rogues whimper. Others press themselves low to the ground, ears flat, waiting for whatever comes next. The blast did not hit them fully. I took most of it. I always do.
I blink through the brightness and look toward the man. Toward the Alpha who stepped into my life only minutes ago and already seems like a walking warning sign.
Adam. The name echoes faintly in my mind even though he never gave it. I heard one of the rogues whisper it earlier, awe mixed with resentment. Adam of Ironwood Pe
