AFTERMATH AND SHADOWS
The forest was quiet. Too quiet. The echoes of battle—the roars, the growls, the screams of struggle—had faded, leaving only a trembling silence that hung heavy in the air. Wolves lay sprawled across the clearing, panting, bleeding, bodies trembling from exhaustion. Some were on their feet, muscles taut, fur matted with blood and dirt, eyes wide with shock, yet alive.
Lykos knelt in the center of the clearing, silver aura still pulsing faintly around him, wolf instincts still alert despite exhaustion. Every nerve in his body screamed in relief, tension slowly releasing like a storm that had passed but left the air charged. His hands hovered over Aria’s, feeling the warmth of her silver essence, the pulse of the fragment still alive and steady.
Aria stepped forward,
