In the wake of the fierce battle with Lucius and his rogue followers, the town of Silverwood breathed a collective sigh of relief. The threat that had loomed over them for so long had been neutralized, and the moonlit town could finally begin to heal.
Adrian and Elara, their bodies bearing the marks of the battle, found a moment of respite in the tranquility of the packhouse. The moonlight filtered through the windows, casting a soft, silvery glow over the room where they stood.
Elara leaned against a sturdy wooden table, her hazel eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Adrian, his emerald gaze never leaving her, crossed the room to stand by her side.
"We did it, Elara," Adrian said softly, his voice filled with a deep sense of pride. "We protected Silverwood and the pack."
