Seravyn's POV And for the next two hours, the compound was a blur of painfully slow recovery. The smoke slowly thinned, leaving the black, empty remains of the cottages standing against the gloomy morning sky. Warriors moved through the mud, picking up discarded weapons, while the Pack healers cared for the wounded towards the main hall. The effects of the adrenaline were fading fast, leaving a cold, hollow, tired feeling in my bones.I was standing near the shattered fountain, my hands covered in dried mud and blood, my body aching with a deep, painful fatigue. Zoriven stood roughly twenty feet away, refusing to let the healers touch his split cheek until the final casualty logs were delivered. Kaelen was beside him, leaning heavily against a stone pillar, his nose broken but his expression stiff.Then, the heavy oak doors of the main hall opened with a slow, ominous groan, pulling me up to my feet at once.A group of six elderly men and women stepped out into the open. They wor
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