تسجيل الدخولNyra's POV
They drag her in before I even hear the footsteps coming.
A girl. Barely more than that, thin wrists shackled, silver-blond hair matted with dirt and worse, an omega mark still fresh enough on her collar to tell me she's newly claimed, newly broken in by whatever pack thought a child was theirs to trade. She stumbles when the gua
Nyra's POVThe chanting starts low, and my whole body goes cold before I even understand the words.They've moved me. Stripped away whatever scraps of privacy the last few days afforded me and laid me flat across the center altar stone, arms bound wide, wrists lashed to iron rings I never noticed carved into the rock until tonight. Above me, the sky has gone the particular dark red that comes before a moon decides to rise, bruised and heavy, waiting.Dorian stands at my head, arms raised, voice pitched low and rhythmic, syllables in a language I don't recognize but feel anyway, deep in the marrow, like the words themselves know exactly where to press to make me flinch.I don't flinch.The chains at my wrists hum louder with every syllable he speak
Kael's POVEvery plan we built dies the moment the scout finishes his sentence."Tonight," I repeat, like saying the word again will change its shape, will somehow buy back the day we just lost. "He's moved it up a full day."The scout nods, still catching his breath, mud drying dark across his knuckles from wherever he crawled through to reach us this fast. Behind him, the tent flap hangs open, letting in cold night air and the distant sound of a camp that thinks it still has until tomorrow to finish preparing.It doesn't.Mira's already moving, sweeping the map off the table and onto the ground, charcoal marks smearing under her boot as she crouches to spread a second sheet, faster, rougher, sketching new lines with the particular speed of someo
Nyra's POVThree nights. That's all I have left to hold onto, and I'm not letting go of them without a fight.The cold's worse now, deeper, the kind that settles into bone and stays there no matter how I shift against the altar stone trying to find warmth that doesn't exist. My wrists have gone past aching into something closer to numb, and Senna's voice has thinned to almost nothing, a whisper I have to strain to hear even when I'm not straining against anything else.I close my eyes and go back there anyway. To the ruins. To three days trapped together with nothing but ancient stone and the weight of everything unsaid finally breaking open between us.I remember his hand.Flat against my sternum, careful, like he thought I might shatter if he pr
Dorian's POVPatience built my career. Impatience will finish it, if I let the wrong men keep talking.I stand at the edge of the ruins, watching torches gutter along the perimeter, watching wolves I've paid or threatened or persuaded pace their assigned posts with the particular restlessness of soldiers who sense something shifting they haven't been told about yet.They're right to sense it. Something has shifted. My scouts brought word an hour ago, and I've spent every minute since deciding what to do with it.Kael Draven has built an army in days that should have taken him months.I admire it, in the way I admire any well-executed maneuver, even one aimed at ending everything I've spent years constructing. Nine packs. Elara of Nightfall, appare
Kael's POVNine packs. Two days. One shot.The map's spread across the table like a corpse we're all standing over, candlelight catching the edges where Mira's marked troop positions in charcoal, the Moonfall Ruins sitting dead center like a wound that hasn't stopped bleeding since the night they took her."Three fronts." Mira's voice cuts through the tent, steady, the way it always gets when she's laying out something she's already turned over a dozen times in her head before saying it out loud. "North approach through the old riverbed, that's Elara's people, they know the terrain better than anyone we've got. East flank comes through the tree line, Thess finally answered, brought forty wolves with him, more than I expected out of a man who spent a week deciding.""And the third front?" I ask, though I already know, because I assigned myself to it three hours ago and haven't let myself reconsider since."South. Straight through the main approach." She taps the spot on the map where t
Mira's POVThree hundred and twelve years old, and nobody thought to check if the thing actually works the way everyone assumes it does.I've got the text spread across two tables now, Kael's spies having dragged half a dead archive out of some crumbling Council outpost, and my eyes are burning from three hours of squinting at handwriting that predates half the words we use today.Elara's letter sits folded beside the oldest volume, already answered, already acted on. Her people crossed into our camp before dawn broke, thirty wolves, lean and quiet, the kind who don't waste breath announcing themselves. Word's spreading past her now, too. Two more small packs sent runners overnight, cautious, testing the water before committing, but testing beats silence.None of that matters as much as what I'm holding."Kael." I don't bother with a greeting. He's slumped in the chair across from me, colour mostly back in his face, though the exhaustion still sits heavy behind his eyes. "Look at this







