Alpha Duncan kicked the heavy wooden door shut behind him. The sudden thud echoed loudly in the cramped, freezing servant quarters.
He took another step into the tiny room, his colossal frame blocking the pale moonlight and casting a massive, intimidating shadow over Hazel.
The rich, suffocating scent of winter pine, leather, and fresh copper blood from his reopened wounds swirled through the small space, aggressively clashing with the bitter smell of the burnt white sage.
Hazel sat frozen on the edge of her narrow cot. She pulled her knees tightly to her chest, keeping her head low. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird, but it wasn't from fear. The agonizing internal fire ritual she had just completed had left her body entirely hollowed out, cold, and physically
