The smell of burning flesh never really leaves you.
Three days after Ironwood's destruction, I can still smell it.
In my dreams, when I manage to sleep.
We saved two hundred and thirty-seven wolves from the settlement before Donovan triggered the explosion.
Two hundred and thirty-seven out of nearly six hundred.
The rest are ash.
"Luna." Helena appears in the doorway of my tent.
We're still at the forward camp, dealing with the aftermath. "The refugees are asking to speak with you."
"Which ones?"
"All of them." She looks exhausted.
We all do.
"They want to know what happens next. Where do they go? If they're prisoners or citizens."
"Tell them I'll address them in an hour," I say, rubbing my eyes.
"And Helena? Make sure they're fed first. Whatever else they are, they're no
