The battlefield didn’t smell like victory.
It smelled like ice and ash and the kind of fear that doesn’t leave your lungs for days.
The ravine wall I had raised still glowed faintly in the distance, streaked with cracks and frozen dust. Wolves moved below in shaken silence, tending to the wounded, counting the living. A few glanced up at the battlements where Kael still held me, their eyes wide and unsure.
Some looked at me like a miracle.
Others like a weapon.
Both made my stomach turn.
“You need to get inside,” Rowan called up, voice hoarse from shouting commands. “The healers are asking if the surge was divine or corrupted. The council is already whispering.”
Of course they were.
Kael’s grip tightened around me.
“She’s done enough for one day,” he snapped. “Tell the healers to
