The rain did not let up.
It fell steadily over Beaumont, washing streaks of blood into thin crimson rivers that disappeared between the stones.
The silver-eyed wolves were gone.
Swallowed by rain.
By shadow.
By the waiting forest.
Yet their absence somehow felt louder than their arrival.
"We will return when you are ready to choose."
Elyra's final words echoed through my mind.
Again.
And again.
They settled somewhere deep inside me, pressing against every question I had carried for nineteen years.
Around me, Beaumont remained frozen.
No one seemed to know what came next.
The warriors still held their weapons, though their arms had begun to lower. Villagers whispered in frightened clusters, their voices carried away by the wind before I could make out the words.
They weren't
