The days following the battle were a blur of burials, healing, and trying to piece our lives back together.
We lost twelve Nightshade wolves, including two of the warriors who trained me. Alpha Kris had survived but lost half his contingent. The western packs had taken heavy casualties too. Every death weighed on me, knowing they died protecting me.
"Stop that," Ezra said when he found me alone at the memorial site we created. "I can see you blaming yourself. Don't."
"How can I not?" I asked, tears streaming down my face. "They died because of me. Because I came here, brought Victor to your doorstep…"
"They died fighting for what they believed in," Ezra interrupted firmly. "Every wolf here made a choice to stand against Victor. You didn't force anyone to fight. You didn't ask for this war. Victor caused it, not you."
"He came here looking for me."
"And we chose to protect you. That was our decision, our choice. Honor it by not diminishing their sacrifice with misplaced guilt."
