~Lucian~

The weight of the sack in my hand was satisfyingly brutal, as it was covered in blood. Four heads: twelve of Maxwell's best warriors, now little more than trophies to remind him of his failure. I'd personally delivered them to the border of his territory, laid them out in a neat row where his patrol would find them at dawn.

Let him see what happens when he threatens what's mine.

The walk back toward the packhouse should have been triumphant. My warriors were uninjured, the intruders ...