OCTAVIA. Hours slipped by in a haze of exhaustion, tension, and relentless determination.The clearing never truly quieted. Warriors and investigators continued combing through every inch of the scene beneath harsh portable lights, even long after they had carefully transported the girl’s body back to the pack for identification.The forest glowed in cold white beams as evidence markers dotted the ground like tiny warning signs. No one wanted to miss anything.Not after this.Forensic teams collected fibers from the bark where the girl had been pinned. Soil samples. Blood samples. Trace residue from the blackened demonic magic staining the clearing. Every footprint was photographed before being cast. Every broken branch was catalogued.The smell of damp earth and blood clung stubbornly to the air.Storm hated it, and so did I.Back at the packhouse, the tech team had converted one of the conference rooms into a command center. Screens lined the walls, displaying maps, timelines, and p
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