Chapter 172

• Lusia
• Just like an altar of sacrifice, the Silvermoon battleground had fallen into desolation. The blood-spattered earth was left scarred and silent as the crimson light of dawn faded into an all—too—pale and mournful gray.
• Bodies lay scattered: Lycans and werewolves, their eyes staring blankly, blood pooling in mud: testimony to the brutal toll war has taken. The air was heady; the metallic tang of death, the acrid burn of spent silver, and the lingering musk of fear, all combined as one intense reality.