Elena's POV
Blood doesn't wash off easily. Three showers later and I swear I can still smell it under my fingernails.
I moved through the pack house like a ghost, checking on injured wolves from last night's s**t show. My medical bag felt heavier with each room I visited. Twenty-three injured. Four dead. One Alpha changed. Just another f*****g day in paradise.
The junior wolves huddled together in the common area, eyes wide and haunted. They'd never seen an Alpha challenge before, let alone one that ended with their leader's throat ripped out.
"Hey," I said softly, kneeling beside a girl barely sixteen. "How's that arm feeling?"
She flinched when I touched her bandage. "It hurts."
"Pain means you're alive," I replied, checking the wound. "Consider yourself lucky."
"Did you see it happen?" another……
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