The girl on the cot made a small broken sound. Elara's hand settled on her wrist, steady and warm. "You're safe. The wolf is still yours. We'll find what did this."
Thorne stepped back into the doorway and stared across the dark courtyard. The foreign scent still hung in the air, thinner now but unmistakable. Cold iron. Dried moss. Altered moon ash.
Whoever had done this knew the rite well enough to strike at its heart, and they had walked the keep without raising a single alarm.
He turned back to Elara. "Lila needs to hear this before the elders invent their own story."
Elara nodded once, already gathering her tools. "I'll stay with them until the bleeding stops for good. Then I'll come."
Thorne left the bunks at a run. The moon watched him cross the open stone, and the bitter scent followed like a second shadow.
Lila was still awake when Thorne found her.
