Heather’s POV

My body trembled with fear as the Raven soldiers dragged me into the center of the grand hall. Their numbers were few, but their piercing eyes gleamed with malice, each gaze sharp enough to cut through my resolve. My mother, fragile and worn, was pulled alongside me—her frail form shoved forward by Colt himself. He positioned her in the middle of the hall, where a black altar stood, crafted from the grinning skulls of the dead.

“Kill her, and we will free our men! Kill ...