POV: Ashina
They arrived home three days later, a ragged procession of warriors and refugees moving slowly through Moonlit Pack territory. Word had spread ahead through the runners—the pack knew they were coming, knew of the victory and the cost.
The entire territory turned out to meet them.
Ashina saw them from a distance hundreds of wolves lining the road to the manor, holding candles and flowers, faces solemn with respect. Children sat on parents' shoulders, elderly wolves stood at the front, and in the center of it all, Zara wept openly.
"They're honoring the fallen," Seraphina said quietly from beside Ashina. The other priestess had regained some strength during the journey but still moved carefully, her body remembering years of torture.
"Twelve candles," Ashina counted, her throat tight. "One for each warrior we lost."
