Seravyn’s POVThe morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of my bedroom, painting long, pale gold stripes across the wooden floorboards. For a few seconds, as the fog of sleep lingered in my mind, everything felt peaceful. The mattress beneath me was soft, smelling cleanly of lavender and dried spices.Then, as I shifted, the sharp ache across my collarbone and the tightness in my calves brought the reality of the previous night rushing back.The smoke. The deafening roar of the explosion. The terrifying sight of Zoriven pinned beneath Caelrix’s blade, and the desperate, suffocating terror that had gripped my throat when I offered myself up to stop the slaughter.I sat up slowly, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes until I saw nothing. My wolf, Naryvex, stirred inside me, stretching her mind limbs with a low, protective purr. “We are safe,” she whispered, her voice clearer than it had been in weeks. “The Sun Flower Pack smells of life today. Not blood.”Everythi
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