ARIA POINT OF VIEW.

SHADOW AND LIGHT

The morning after the battle felt wrong.

Shadowfang usually woke with sound, the thud of boots, the low murmur of guards changing watch, the distant clang of steel being reforged. Today, the pack moved as if the air itself might break if disturbed. Grief lingered like fog, heavy and quiet, clinging to stone and skin alike.

I stood at the window of Thorne’s chamber, watching the pale light stretch across the courtyard. The marks of war were everywhere, ...