The cave carved into the heart of the Mountain of Darkness glowed faintly, lit by a fire that was no fire at all. Its flames burned pale blue, casting long, eerie shadows that writhed against the cavern walls like living things. The stone dripped with moisture, its veins glimmering faintly as though the mountain remembered the blood and battles buried in its bones.Freya sat close to the unnatural fire, its glow brushing warmth against her chilled skin, but no flame could quiet the storm inside her chest. The shadows seemed to lean closer, listening, watching as though the mountain itself hungered for her response to what had been revealed.Kyla, the Witch of Shadows, the woman who had embraced her and spoken the word granddaughter, sat across from her. Age clung to her in every line of her frail frame, but her clouded eyes shimmered with a sorrow time had never managed to bury. Ragnar stood near the cavern wall, tall and unyielding, his silver gaze sharp and unreadable. His presence
Last Updated : 2025-09-04 Read more