Serayah Cressors.
Under the darkened blue of the sky, I cannot reach him. I cannot see. I cannot look at him. But I know his body is lifeless. A step backward, and I feel the cold, the fear, the truth of what his identity could mean. I raise my neck to towards the castle walls, toward the broken window, toward the impossible height from which he fell—surely even a wolf wouldn’t survive it.
What if—No. No.
I shake my head, denying, rejecting, resisting. Why did this happen? Why did this have to happen? I hear footsteps—multiple, urgent ones that belong to the Frost Wards who gather around the body. The body. The tragedy is so heavy that I sink to my knees, too afraid to look, afraid to know.
One by one, the castle's lights come on and as a whole, they illuminate the entire landscape.
