When I stood again, the dynamic had shifted completely. The witches were backing away, some openly fearful, others simply uncertain about what they'd witnessed. The werewolves had formed a loose circle around their survivors, protecting them from all threats…including me.
Jay, lyra and Thalia flanked me, a united front against a world that seemed determined to reject us. But I could see the uncertainty in their eyes too, the way they looked at the poisoned ground and the lingering traces of power that made the air taste like copper and ozone.
"This isn't over," Ephraim said as he began to retreat with his followers. "Elara will…"
"Elara will what?" I called after him. "Send more assassins? Burn more villages? How many innocents is she willing to sacrifice for power?"
He paused at the edge of the square, his back to me. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible over the crackling of dying flames.
