The smell of blood was very thick and the palace, which used to be a very meticulous and magnificent place, where everyone, who stared at it would be in awe, right now was nothing, but felt like a huge, fancy graveyard.
So many people died by the end of the war, their dead bodies were piled on one corner of the palace, they were going to burn them, which meant, for a few days ahead, this place would be filled with the smell of burning flesh.
Obviously, it was not the most exciting thing to know. The sky was so bleak, as if it mourned the death of so many shifters, as new order was put in place.
"This is not right," Logan said. He frowned deeply, as if the furrow would be forever etched on his face. "This is not right."