Ally's POV
"Thank you," he breathes out, sitting up, his wonder unmistakable.
I nod, unable to form words, my focus shifting to the next injured soul. They are not my people, yet they are. In this war, lines blur until friend and foe bear the same face- human, vulnerable, desperate for salvation. I can't turn my back on them, not when my very nature compels me to heal, to mend, to soothe.
"Ally." Elliot's voice is a low rumble, much like the growl of his wolf. He stands a few feet away, observing the scene with a complicated expression that borders on admiration and concern. "You're tipping the scales."
"Isn't that what we want?" I retort, meeting his gaze. "A chance to stop the bloodshed?"
"Perhaps," he concedes, his eyes tracking my movements with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. There's an understanding between us, unspoken yet powerful. It's the recognition of shared ideals, of dreams that extend beyond the tyranny of his brother.