KELLY THOMPSON'S POV

The air was heavy with the scent of charred earth and blood, a stark reminder of the carnage that had unfolded mere hours ago. I stood there, amidst the remnants of war, my heart burdened by the cost of our victory. Around me, Alpha Markus and Alpha Biansky surveyed the battlefield, their expressions grim as they took in the devastation.

"Alpha Biansky," I began, my voice steady despite the sorrow that clawed at my chest, "your son's bravery will be honored. We've all lost ...