Amara’s POV
Tension permeated the air. I could smell it as soon as I went outside the council hall: the panic, the dread, the stench of charred wood and blood in the air. Through the northern gates, refugees were flooding in, the majority of them desperate, bleeding, and bruised. The warriors of Obsidian Pack were trying their hardest to assist, but we were overburdened.
My boots banged against the stone as I dashed across the courtyard. "Bring her here! "Now!" I yelled, gesturing to a young child with an abnormally twisted leg. Behind her, her mother wailed while holding her hand.
I lowered myself next to the girl and put my hands lightly on her leg. Her body was shaking, and her face was pale.
"What’s your name, sweetheart?" I asked quietly.
"T-Tilly," she said in a whisper.
"All r
