15
Daemi woke with a groan of pain, rolling onto her side, away from the depths of sleep, away from the familiar dream that had taken hold of her once again. She had been fighting the wolves, focusing every ounce of muscle, every instinct her training had honed, every breath of effort into holding them back. But they didn’t stop. As soon as one great fanged beast fell another took its place, snapping at her, always pressing her back, always pushing her that little step further toward the brink of her endurance.
Then the dream changed, away from her twisted memories of the day Cortis had taken Redmondis, into something altogether blacker. Her adversaries had morphed into something less recognisable, darker, not of this world. Black, clawed indefinable shapes, seemingly formed from long sh
