Silence after screams is never silence.

It’s the echo of death.

The hall was filled with it.

Ash drifted like snow, clinging to my skin, to my lashes, to the iron thrones. Wolves gagged, coughed, pressed cloth to their mouths. The stench of charred flesh was thick enough to choke.

The child I had saved huddled against the wall, shaking, blood smeared across her cheek.

Everyone else stared at me.

Not Kael.

Not the bond.

Me.

Like I was no longer their omega. No longer their fire.

But the ...