Chapter 39 - A Temporary Victory

The rogue camp was a cluttered haven in the noonday sun, tents slumping in battle-wearied surrender after more than two days of fighting, the air heavy with the smell of blood, of pine, and a bitter suggestion of Isolde's fading runes. The "field" was littered with shattered arrows and claw slashes, no longer a battle ground for now the battle had faded into a tattered peace upon the retreat of the Blackfangs. My crescent tingled under my sleeve, its increased warmth a quiet buzz in my veins, while the purple scar of my blood-oath to Isolde pulsed, a dark reminder of her treachery and my lifechain promise to an impossible vow. I look from the centre of the camp, beside the main firepit, my blade sheathed, my heart heavy with the cost of our victory. Kael leaned back against a nearby post, pallor marked by the face scars, the storm-gray of his eyes dark with pain. Love and a shared bond between mates pulsed between us, but his weakening body felt like a knife in my chest.