Chapter 58: Ashes and Ice
The Blackthorn Lodge was a skeleton.
The main roof had collapsed during the battle. The great hall was filled with snow, shattered glass, and the debris of a war we had barely survived.
But the foundation held.
We spent the first week clearing the rubble. It was back-breaking work, but the pack threw themselves into it with a desperate energy. They needed something to do. They needed to believe they could fix something.
Victor led the reconstruction.
I sat on a makeshift bench, nursing Lyra, watching him.
He was shirtless, despite the freezing temperature. He moved a massive oak beam that should have taken four men to lift. He didn't grunt. He didn't strain. He didn't sweat.
He lifted it with a terrifying, mechanical ease and tossed it onto the discard pil
