Athena's POV
The battle was over.
The war was not.
Kieran knelt before me in the shattered courtyard of the broken palace, his head bowed, his blood-soaked hair clinging to his forehead. Dust and ash clung to his tattered armor like the residue of a dying world. He had survived, but only just.
His breathing was ragged, as though the weight of what he was about to say pressed against his ribs harder than the battle had.
"Speak," I commanded, though my voice was softer than I intended. I wasn't ready for what I already knew he would tell me.
He looked up. His eyes, fierce, wolf-bright, and shadowed with an unknown expression met mine.
"It's worse than we thought," Kieran rasped. "The outer territories, they've fallen. Major cities razed. Demon wolves still prowl the borders, organized, relentless. We've killed their master, but not their hunger."
