Go

Clara

When we all arrived at the center of Bragne, I saw the Alpha carrying bodies in his arms. His face was impassive. The smell of horrible smoke filled my nostrils, and I saw Sisley pouring oil on a pyre. Griffin and Prince Legiere’s two bodyguards threw rough-hewn logs on the piles of bodies. They were burning our dead. Ideally, the Moonstone Pack would have buried the dead, but there was no time anymore. Already, the carrion crows gathered on the dry branches of the oaks above the pyres. A particularly bold crow flew down to a body and pecked at an eye. The Alpha snatched it and ripped its head off. The crows screamed and flew off to another perch. Their beady eyes still gleamed with hunger.

Prince Legiere nodded at the Alpha. “Did you catch the leader?”

A grim snort left the Alpha’s lips. Even he did not come away unscathed. His right ear was torn to pieces. His face had several long gashes, and I could see tiny shimmers of consecrated silver left behind in its wake.

I looked ov