Alpha of Smoke
I tell him, tryin’ to reassure him, even as my own fear knots in my chest.
I settle in beside Mo, refusin’ to leave his side. Reba sits across from me, her hands folded in her lap, watchin’ with the patience of someone who has seen too many men fight for their lives.
Kan returns with water, and I help him tilt a few drops into Mo’s mouth. He swallows, barely, but it’s a good sign.
The storm has passed, leavin’ behind a thick, damp stillness in the air. The smell of wet earth and pine lingers, mixin’ with the sharp bite of blood and medicine.
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