Orin's pov

"That’s the third time they’ve passed through here today," I mumbled, my voice low and rough from the cold air.

The sound of boots echoed faintly through the stone hall again. They were slow, heavy, but steady in a precise rhythm.

I waited for Veythar to answer, but he didn’t. There was no growl, no voice in my head — nothing.

He had been angry since the night I was attacked. He hadn’t spoken to me once.

I leaned my head back against the wall, the stone biting into my ...