The wind sighed over the battlefield. Where moments before had been fire and screams, now silence. And trees in the distance sighed, their leaves murmuring. Serena stood over the wreck breathing heavily, as she tried to catch her breath. Blood covered her blade and caked over her hands and parts of her face. But her grip was steady.
She didn't move at first. Couldn't. Her legs were leaden, her arms were leaden. It felt like something eternal, she thought, beginning to grow inside her — not the wolf, exactly, but something icier. A part of her that'd wait in a line. To a place she could never return to.
The first to her side was Lucian. He remained silent at first. Just looked at her, the point of his sword drooping, his eyes filled with what you might almost call respect — and compassion.
"You alright?" he said after a beat, low voice, gentle.
"So I don't know." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I don't feel like me."
