POV: Lyra

The stronghold was silent.

I stood in the courtyard with my chest heaving and my hands still glowing faintly at my sides, and the body of Draven lying motionless at my feet. The silver light had faded, but the power still hummed beneath my skin like a second heartbeat, and I could feel it waiting for another command.

The Shadow Pack warriors had stopped fighting.

Some of them had dropped to their knees. Others had turned and run into the mountains. A few of them stood frozen with their weapons still raised and their eyes fixed on the body of their fallen leader.

I looked at them.

"Go,"...