ELLIE’S POV
The world was silent.
Not the silence of peace, but the silence after a storm — thick, raw, trembling on the edge of collapse. The last echo of Wesley’s scream still clung to the air, mingling with the acrid scent of scorched earth and blood. My chest rose and fell with measured breaths, though my heart thundered like a war drum inside me. The flames of the ritual still licked at my skin, silver and fire intertwined, wrapping around me like a mantle. My wolf pressed close, radiating power that rippled outward, undeniable, unbroken.
They were all staring at me.
Every face in the clearing, every pair of eyes that had once spit hatred at me, that had whispered “murderer” in the shadows, now looked upon me in stunned silence. Some wide with fear, others with awe, others yet wit
