Aslaan’s POV

The night had not yet broken, but the moonlight had dimmed like an omen, or perhaps a warning. I could feel it in my bones as I strapped the leather belt across my chest and fastened my blade. The scent of damp earth and smoke lingered in the air, mingling with the low hum of the restless wolves outside.

The sickness had already taken two more men. Petal had fought it with everything she had herbs, tinctures, poultices but we’d run out. Her hands had trembled when she told ...