GAVIN’S POV
By the time we made our way to the pack infirmary, the forest was preternaturally still, as if the storm that had torn through it had never come.
The trees stood silent again, but the air still held the ghost of violence—charred earth, splintered bark, blood. The quiet after carnage.
We looked like hell—ragged, bloody, and utterly spent—as we sank onto the stone bench in the infirmary courtyard.
Moonlight caught the edges of Kieran’s shredded skin and the sheen of sweat on him. He didn’t look like an Alpha then—just a man gutted by his own mistakes.
I grabbed a first aid box and a spare set of clothes from the store. When I came back, he hadn’t moved, staring at nothing, jaw tight, eyes hollow.
Ashar had receded deep within him, but the wolf’s unease hadn’t vanished; I could feel it simmering beneath the surface.
