No Mercy

August had made her promise to stay in the house, and Mercy had pretended to comply. It was better that way. Well, it was easier that way, anyhow.

When she stepped outside, about an hour after the battle had begun, she knew exactly what to expect.

She wasn’t wearing a long, flowing gown like she had been in her dreams, though. She was wearing a much more practical outfit. She had on pants and they were tucked into her boots. She was also wearing a long-sleeved shirt. It was a bit chilly in the predawn hours. A light fog hung over the village. It was fog–not smoke.

Why would it be smoke? It wasn’t as if wolves fought with weapons that fired gunpowder like humans did. Still, she did smell smoke in the distance. As she began to walk toward the sound of fighting, the smell became stronger, more acrid, and she realized that there were some buildings on fire on the perimeter of the village.

That bastard Rider had set some of the villagers’ homes on fire.

Mercy shook her head and knew that t