ELLIE’S POV
The clearing still smelled of fire and ash, the remnants of the ritual clinging to the air like ghosts that refused to leave. Smoke curled faintly from the great fire at the center, its once-roaring flames now a bed of glowing embers. Sparks drifted upward, swallowed by the night sky, like prayers sent too late.
The council’s voices had finally fallen silent. Wesley was gone. His shadow, his poison, his rule—scattered like the ash that coated the earth beneath our feet. The truth had been spoken, the lies ripped apart. Yet silence did not bring peace.
The pack lingered.
Hundreds of eyes still fixed on me, refusing to look away. Reverence swam in them. Regret. Awe. And beneath it all, something I recognized because I had carried it once too—desperation. A hunger for directio
