Dawn came slowly.
Not gently.
The first light of morning crept over Blackclaw like it didn't quite belong there, pale and uncertain as it stretched across broken stone and blood-soaked earth.
The courtyard was unrecognizable.
Scars carved into the ground. Walls cracked. The main gate—shattered beyond repair. The air still carried the metallic scent of battle, thick and lingering.
And everywhere—
Aftermath.
Selene stood at the center of it, unmoving.
Her body ached in ways she couldn't fully process yet. Every breath reminded her of the fight, of the blows she had taken, of how close it had all come to ending.
But the physical pain wasn't what held her still.
It was everything else.
The silence after the storm.
The weight of what had changed.
Behind her, voices moved through the compound—warriors regrouping, healers working, orders being shouted in low, urgent tones.
Life continued.
Because it had to.
But nothing felt the same.
"Selene."
