Chapter eleven
The corrupted wolves didn’t attack that night.
They simply stood on the ridge, crimson eyes glowing, my dead mother’s face smiling down like a nightmare painted on the sky. Then, as one, they turned and melted into the forest. The howl faded into silence.
But no one slept.
Cassian called council at first light. The command tent was packed—warriors standing shoulder to shoulder, Mara pale but upright, shoulder bandaged, eyes burning with fury. Maps covered the table: human army south, traitors east, corrupted north.
“We’re boxed in,” Cassian said, voice flat. “Vorenne wants the Shadow Luna as trophy. The Iron Fang wants amnesty. And whatever’s wearing her mother’s skin wants the power we just bound.”
He looked at me. “We need allies. Now.”
Mara spoke first. “The Frostc
