The silence that followed the departure of the Grey-Claws was a thick, suffocating shroud. The Reborn World, which had felt so vibrant and full of possibility only hours ago, now looked like a faded photograph. The silver road, once our path to freedom, was now a cold reminder of the debt Dax had paid in my name.
I stood in the center of the drive, the silver-weighted coin biting into my palm. Track the Fang. It wasn't just an instruction; it was a desperate tether from a man who knew he was walking into a cage. Dax wasn't a king returning to his throne; he was a hostage to his own honor.
"They're gone," a voice rasped from the shadows of the clubhouse porch.
I turned to see Tank and Reaper. They looked battered, their armor scorched from the battle at the Spire, but their eyes held a f
