The hours dragged on like years.
The air inside the small tent was freezing. My wrists felt sore from the ropes they’d tied me with. Lyra was somewhere out there. I didn’t know if she was still alive or hurt or... Every sound outside — the crunch of boots, the bark of orders, the echo of distant howls — made me flinch. And then came the footsteps that stopped right outside my tent.
“On your feet,” a guard barked as he opened the tent flaps. Before I could even move, rough hands already grabbed my arms, dragging me back out into the night once more. The camp was louder now — restless. The scent of fresh blood was in the air. Blood of my pack. My home.
They brought me back to the large tent where the older king had first spoken to me. The moment I stepped inside, I knew something was diff
