The first wave of the battle was over.
The wolves sat scattered across the clearing, and the castle's stage, where the binding ceremony and exchange of vows had taken place between Lucian and Talia. They all lay drenched and exhausted, the rain having begun the instant the witch fell. It was as if the sky itself had been holding its breath and now exhaled in grief and relief, washing the blood from fur and stone alike.
Lucian stood in the center, his eyes scanning the devastation. “Everybody okay? Everybody accounted for?”
He received only exhausted grunts and groans in reply.
Talia lay flat on her back, the curve of her baby bump rising beneath the robe that had been given to her. The torn fabric of her once beautiful lace ceremonial bridal gown lay in tatters around them. Blood-strea
