The night after the fire was quiet, too quiet. Shadowfang had buried the dead, tended to the wounded, and tried to move on, but the smell of smoke still lingered in the air. It clung to the walls, to their clothes, to every memory.

Selene sat by the window of her room, staring at the dark treetops beyond the walls. She hadn’t spoken much since returning. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the burning village again—the screams, the flames, the small bodies that never moved.

She ran ...