The courtyard had emptied, but the echo of what had taken place lingered like smoke that refused to fade. The torches had burned low, their flames swaying against the breeze, and scattered voices still murmured as wolves reluctantly returned to their homes. The fight was over. Bella had won.

And yet, victory did not taste like triumph.

Bella sat on a bench just inside the Alpha’s hall, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her tunic was torn, stained with dirt and streaks of blood, and her ...