Chapter 56. First Blood

The wounded moaned softly in the great hall, which had been stripped of its former grandeur and turned into a makeshift infirmary. Wolves moved carefully among the injured, offering water, pressing clean cloth to wounds, murmuring prayers or reassurances beneath their breath. The air was thick with the smell of blood, sweat, and burning oil, a scent that clung to the stone and refused to fade.

Selene knelt beside a young warrior who was barely more than a boy. His leg was shattered, wrapped in splints and soaked bandages, his breathing shallow and uneven. She pressed a steady hand to his brow and whispered words of comfort, unsure whether he could hear her, but unwilling to stop. When his eyes fluttered weakly, she held his gaze until the pain dragged him back under.

Beyond the hall, the fortress buzzed with frantic activity. Scouts came and went in hurried burst