The snow⁠ had melted into mud by morning. The fields around Moonshadow steamed faintly, the air thick with the scen⁠t of damp earth⁠ and lingering smoke. Wolves moved through the rui⁠ns with tired efficiency—rebuildin⁠g walls, burying the dead, pretending the silence meant safet⁠y.

Bella stood at the edge of the courtyard, cloak wrapped tight around her shoulders. The faint swell of her ...