The mountain air was a sharp, icy blade against my fur, but I welcomed the sting. It was better than the suffocating heat of the lair. It was better than the scent of violet and sin that had filled my lungs until I couldn’t breathe.
Ramon.
The name echoed in the rhythm of my hooves as I descended the jagged path toward Hallstatt. Every time my mind drifted toward the name, a white-hot spike of agony landed through my chest. She had used it as a weapon. She had looked into the face of a god of judgement, and found the man’s secret name. I growled, a low, vibrating sound that caused a layer of snow to slide off a nearby pine branch.
The village below was a cluster of flickering lights. To the humans, tonight was a festival. A night for costumes, alcohol, and a safe, sanitized version o
