Sold to the Alpha King
She opened her palms wider, flooding him with light.
He staggered, flesh flickering between man and smoke. Hate twisted his features. “I cannot exist without fear,” he rasped.
“Then you choose your own end,” she whispered.
The light within him shattered. With a final cry, Orith dissolved into drifting ash that caught the dawn breeze, scattering across crimson sky.
Silence fell. The remaining shadow constructs crumpled, empty shells. Wolves howled in triumph as the first true sunlight broke through dissipating clouds.
Ezra limped toward the base, grime streaking his cheek. Alara met him halfway; he crushed her to his chest. She buried fingers in blood-spattered hair, tears mixing with sweat.
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