Drake - POV

Blood dripped from my hands as I stood among the lifeless bodies of the dungeon guards. The air was thick with the stench of iron and death.

“Good job,” Mac muttered, yanking a hood off one of the guards who had just come in for the shift change. Without hesitation, we stripped them of their uniforms, disguising ourselves in the dark fabric to blend in.

As we stepped outside, a blanket of snow covered the vast forest ahead. In the distance, a town loomed, its lights ...