The forest was unnervingly quiet in the aftermath of the battle, as if the trees themselves were mourning the fallen. The sky overhead had begun to clear, revealing the cold light of the stars through the canopy, but there was no comfort in it. The silence was thick, laden with the weight of what had just transpired and the unknown threat that still lingered.
Emily stood at the edge of Lornwood, staring into the shadowed treeline. The victory over the Harrow Clan had been hard-won, but something gnawed at her—an unease that had taken root deep inside. She couldn't shake the feeling that their enemy was regrouping, watching, waiting for the right moment to strike again.
