*Rhys*

My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my palms until I felt the sting of skin breaking. This land, now tainted with the stench of death, was only the beginning.

"Rhys," Daxton called out, his voice a steady beacon in the chaos that threatened to consume my thoughts. "We mustn't let rage cloud our judgment."

I turned to face him, noting the furrowed brow and concern etched deeply into his features. Daxton had always been the voice of reason to my ...