The battlefield was silent, except for the crackle of dying flames and the hiss of shattered bone.

The Huntress’s spear lay broken on the stones, one half glowing faintly with moonlight, the other blackened by my fire. Wolves stared at it as if staring into the end of their world.

Kael leaned against me, scar sealed but raw, his breathing ragged. My crown of blood still pulsed faintly, hot and heavy against my brow. The child inside me shifted again, as if restless, as if aware of what I ...