The dungeon smelled of sweat, rust, and wolf piss.

The Hollowbone captives knelt in their shackles, their eyes burning with hatred, their voices spitting curses.

I stood above them, crown burning against my skull, Kael at my side half-slumped, his scar pulsing like molten iron through his chest.

Councilor Draven’s voice carried through the silence.

“The Alpha weakens. Your blood slowed it but it is not enough. The Crown demands more. Will you bleed again, queen? Or will you finally do ...