A crimson dawn painted the sky, casting an ominous glow over the once peaceful valley. The storm, a raging tempest throughout the night, had subsided, leaving behind a sense of unsettling calm. Cinder lay unconscious amidst the trampled grass, her body a canvas of raw wounds and exhaustion. Beside her, Zara knelt, her face etched with worry.
The aftermath of the previous night's battle was gruesome. Several of the pack wolves lay motionless, their bodies testament to the monstrous power that had erupted from Cinder. Others bore the scars of the fight, their whimpers and growls painting a picture of fear and confusion.
Zara's gaze lingered on Cinder, a mixture of hope and trepidation warring within her. Had the full moon unleashed Cinder's potential, or had it revealed a terrifying truth – that the prophecy held a double-edged sword?
