LYRA

Fenrir was waiting in the war room.

Alone.

That fact alone was unsettling.

Normally, the ancient guardian seemed larger than any room he entered, his presence filling every corner with silent authority. Tonight, however, he stood motionless beside the enormous map table at the center of the chamber, staring down at something spread across the wood.

Moonlight streamed through the high windows.

Silver shadows stretched across the floor.

And for the first time since meeting him—

Fenrir ...