The fires of the siege still smoldered.

Shadowfang’s fortress reeked of smoke and iron, the courtyard a graveyard of broken shields and bodies that would never rise again. The wounded were dragged into the hall, the healers working until their hands shook from exhaustion. Wolves howled in mourning from the ramparts, their voices cutting into Selene’s chest like knives.

She stood among the wreckage, her hands trembling despite the sword she still carried. Every time she blinked, she saw ...