Pearl's POV
I could still taste the beast’s blood when the words came down from the ridge.
"The first stage is ended." "She stands," the elder woman's voice rang sharp and merciless, "but Ironhold does not bow to only a single fight." "She will face the second stage. The Masked Wolves.”
My knees almost buckled then and there. My body ached like it had been torn apart and stitched back together wrong. My ribs screamed every time I breathed, my shoulder throbbed from where the beast’s tusk had ripped me, and the swamp’s muck clung to my skin like a second, suffocating hide.
But I stood. Somehow, I stood.
Every face turned toward me again. Dozens of Ironhold wolves pressed close to the ridge, their eyes gleaming in the mist. Some sneered openly, muttering to each other that the swamp had
