Elijah’s POV I was finishing my morning drills, when Liam found me at the healing hut’s narrow window. He leaned against the frame, arms folded, gaze restless. “Elijah,” he said quietly, “I’ve fought and trained so long… but now, each routine sword drill feels empty. I… I don’t know where to put my strength anymore.” I patted the sword in my hand with a soft touch. “Peace does that to warriors. You’re used to storms, not still air.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Exactly. I tried sparring with Henry, but it’s not the same. I feel dull.” I set aside my sword and pulled on a simple cloak. “Then teach,” I said. “Your strength can guide others.” He raised an eyebrow. “Teach? The youngest, you mean?” I smiled. “They need that spark only a true warrior can kindle. Will you let me train them?” He hesitated, then nodded. “Show me where to start.” That afternoon, I gathered a dozen young wolves in the training yard. Some clutched wooden swords with shaking hands; others simply watc
Leila’s POV The infirmary was the worst place and the best place to heal. Walls of rough stone held jars of salves and shelves of linen, but also the echo of doctors’ soft commands and patients’ labored breaths. Every day I stepped inside, I tried to leave my own scars outside, but some days, the memories clung to me like bandages I couldn’t remove. That morning, the door swung open and a new patient was carried in. Nurses laid her on the highest cot. She was young, maybe nineteen or twenty, with dark hair cut short, and eyes that darted like frightened birds. When she lifted her head, I saw the cruel bruises on her neck, lace-like patterns that spoke of Sebastian’s ceremonial silk. Guilt squeezed my chest. I remembered those bindings all too well, the cold silk that numbed my skin, the way it pressed until I begged for it to stop, and it never would. I swallowed, bending beside her. “I’m Leila.” My voice was steady, though my fingertips itched. “I’ll be your healer.” Her eyes f
Liam’s POVThe dawn broke in a silver wash over the training yard, and the world felt impossibly quiet. I stood alone on the wooden platform, the spear in my hand so familiar it felt like an extension of my arm. But today, I hesitated to lift it. My muscles itched to move, to fight, to train as I always had. Instead, the morning breeze brushed against my scars, and I realized how much I missed the clash of blades and the roar of battle.After months of endless war, blasts of magic, the scream of steel, the snap of soldiers underfoot, peace had finally settled like an unexpected guest in our camp. I’d fought to win it. And now that it was here, I wasn’t sure I knew what to do with it.I closed my eyes and lowered the spear butt to the wooden planks. Behind me, Leila’s soft laughter drifted from the healer’s tent. I smiled, a warm twist in my chest. Healing laughter, that sounded right. But the silence around me felt too loud, as if the world waited for me to sharpen my edge again.I sh
Leila’s POVThe dawn light slipped through the hewn window slats of the infirmary, painting the rough-hewn floorboards in pale gold. I inhaled the scent of fresh linen and wild mint, the two most prevalent smells here, then let it out slowly, steeling myself for another day of healing. My hands still trembled, scarred by the memory of Sebastian’s silk bindings, but today they would hold scalpel and salve instead of fear.I tied my hair back in a loose braid, pinned my weathered healer’s tunic over faded trousers, and stepped into the center of the ward. The low murmur of patients and aides greeted me. A young soldier with a bruised side leaned back on a cot; the healer Alice hovered, salve in hand. To my left, a mother cradled her feverish son; to my right, a veteran rested in his cot with a bandaged knee.“Good morning, everyone,” I called softly. My voice cracked as I moved toward Alice and the soldier. “How does the pain feel today?”Alice looked up, brows drawn. “Better, but you’l
Alpha Orion pov My heart pounded like a war drum that morning, not from foes at the gates, but from the weight of hope. Peace had cracked open like a fresh bloom, but I knew that the ground beneath it still trembled. Today, I would invite neighboring Alphas to Crimson Moon to forge alliances. But I could not ignore the searing memory of past battles, of bloodied fields and fallen wolves. Could peace, as fragile as the morning mist, ever last?I stood atop the palisade, watching dawn spill gold across the valley. The camp lay quiet: squads of hunters laying aside their weapons, healers lighting fires, trainees sparring with wooden swords. Against this new normal, I carried the old worries, a parent carrying fear under a calm mask.I gathered my sons and Leila before the council doors. My voice was gentle, firm. “Today, we opened our gates to our neighbors. Their arrival may bring old wounds to light, but let it also shine truth on our unity.”Henry nodded, his calm strength always at
Henry’s povThe dawn mist had barely lifted when I slipped from my tent, leather jerkin still warm from the night’s fires. The camp was stirring, Elijah tending his wards at the healing huts, Liam sparring in the yard for practice, Leila gathering herbs for the infirmary. But I could not rest. A part of me still circled Sebastian’s fallen fortress, hunting for echoes of his dark magic.I pulled my cloak tight against the chill and headed east, past the dancing lanterns of the healer’s tents and through the broken rosebushes Leah had planted. My sword lay heavy at my side, but I carried only a satchel of silver dust and warding chalk. Where warriors once searched for power in steel, I sought it in runes and careful words.The forest edge thinned into tangled underbrush as I approached the ruins of Sebastian’s eastern outpost. The shattered gate loomed like a toothless maw, ebony timbers streaked with the green ash Elijah had used to break his first wards. I knelt to pick up a fallen sh