Chapter 42: Price of Victory

Claire's POV 

The battlefield was quiet.  

There was no peaceful silence - it was thick with grief, with the weight of everything we lost. The smell of blood is still glued to the wind, along with the moist soil and smoke from the fire that came out. Bodies - Hamare and her - were spread over the ground, some changing, moaning with pain, others still and precious.  

We won.  

But it didn't feel like a victory.  

Derek was a few meters ahead of me, his wide shoulders were hard, and his golden eyes scanned later. His face was impartial, but I could see excitement in his attitude, the way his hands closed and closed him.  

The warriors of Redwater went through the battlefield and checked for the remaining people, their fallen gathered. Some people took their injured to stretchers, others stood frozen and stared at the bodies of their fallen brothers and sisters.  

I forced myself to move and ignore the pain in my organs. My ribs from where an evil solid kick was lowered, and my left shoulder was burned with shallow claw brands, but there was nothing like any other suffered.  

I went on a lifeless midnight moon warrior and knelt next to a redwater wolf a young, barely twenty, whose heart grows and falls at uneven breaths. His face was yellow, there was blood in his temple.  

"You're going to get me," I fit, pushing one hand against his wound. His eyes are open, unfocused, but he shakes his head weakly.  

Behind me, I heard Derek quickly breathe out. When I folded, glanced at something - or someone - a few meters away.  

I followed her and stared.  

Jared.

He lay inside the dirt, unmoving. Blood pooled underneath him from the gash throughout his stomach, his respiration slow, and shallow.

Derek took a step forward, and for a second, I concept he changed into going to complete him off.

Instead, he stopped, staring down at his fallen enemy with something almost unreadable in his expression.

“He’s nonetheless alive,” I said, looking at the gradual rise and fall of Jared’s chest.

Derek didn’t solution at once.

Then—

“Leave him.”

I blinked. “What?”

“He’s now not a danger anymore.” His voice changed into flat, but there was something else there, something confined.

I didn’t argue. I didn’t need to.

Because Derek became properJared wasn’t a risk anymore.

His p.C. Turned into scattered, defeated. Without them, he was not anything.

And, after I checked out him, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we weren’t achieved with him. Not yet.

A sharp, pained howl echoed from the opposite side of the sphere, snapping me returned to the prevailing.

I turned in time to look at a collection of Redwater warriors kneeling beside a fallen determine.

An older guy. His silver-streaked hair changed into stained with blood, and his respiration laboured.

Elias.

Derek’s Beta.

I had spent the previous few days resenting him, knowing he had betrayed us, however now—seeing him like this—it felt different.

Derek moved toward him, and I hesitated earlier than following.

Elias’ eyes fluttered open as Derek crouched beside him. His lips parted as if he wanted to talk, however, no words got here out.

“You did this to yourself,” Derek said, his voice bloodless.

Elias swallowed, struggling to boost a hand, however his energy failed him.

I anticipated Derek to appear glad to look some form of vindication in his face.

Instead, I noticed exhaustion.

Alias ​​was his second command for years. A friend, even. And despite everything, despite the betrayal, losing it was not so easy in this way that justice was served.

Alias's ​​mouth went back again, and this time I caught a single word.

"To apologize."

Then-

His body still disappeared.

The tension in Derek's shoulders did not reduce. If anything, it was spoiled.

I wanted to say anything - whatever - but the words felt empty.

Instead, I reached out the pressure to Derek.

He did not continue long.

So, without a word, he got up on his feet.

"We have to gather our dead," he said. "And burn the body before the scent and draw more misunderstandings."

I had already gone away before I replied.

The others followed his command, moving in silence, their exhaustion pressing down on them like a heavyweight.

A fire was lit from night.

The flames climbed high in the sky, the smell of burning meat and filled the air. It was an essential ritual - one for our fallen respect, to protect them from being disappointed by scavengers - but it's not easy.

Derek was separated from the others and saw that their feet were burned. The firelight flickers in her face and gives shade to her tired eyes.

I hesitated before I walked next to him.

"You did the right thing," I said quietly.

He didn't see me. "What did I do?"

I was furious. "We won."

Derek breathed a slow breath, the gaze never left the flames.

"But at what price?"

I had no answer.

As I looked around, I saw the same thing on the tired faces of the flock, where friends should have stood.

Then-

A Hawell shared the night.

Remote control.

But not enough far away.

I got stiff. Derek did too, his jaw tightened.

Another howl followed. Then another.

Not Redwater wolves.

Not Midnight Moon either.

Something else.

Something worse.

Derek finally turned to me, his golden eyes sharp with something new.

Something dangerous.

“They’re coming.”

And just like that, I realized—