The Scar howled.
It wasn’t wind.
It wasn’t wolves.
It was something older.
The enemy's footsteps, Garrick's warriors leaking down the stairway like oil through crevices, roused the heartbeat of hidden strength. With their eyes shining with command and their blades glinting, their shadows danced against the carved walls.
However, Garrick was the first to enter the room.
No longer pretending civility. No longer cloaked in charm.
The Thorn crest was twisted into something hideous on his all black armor. From his pauldrons arced a jagged crown of bone, and his vicious, silver-bright eyes sneered scornfully at Elias.
"Well," he muttered as he moved forward, "isn't this comfortable?”
Jace growled, stepping into his path. “You’ve gone too far, Uncle.”
Garrick didn’t flinch. “You say t
