FINNIAN
Word had already been sent to my brother that we were arriving today. I told him everything about the war, about the wounded, about the lives we lost. Knowing Rowan, he’d already prepared for our arrival.
When we reached the border of the Red Moon Pack, the royal guards were waiting, standing in perfect formation, their armor glinting under the pale sun.
They bowed low, but I barely spared them a glance. The air smelled of blood and damp earth. My men were weary, some barely holding on. The sound of the carriages behind me was heavy, dragging like the weight on my chest.
We rode through the gates of the palace. The moment we entered the courtyard, wolves and servants rushed forward. Familiar faces. Some gasped at the sight of our wounds, and others whispered prayers under thei
