The first scream shattered the dawn.
Ivy bolted upright in bed, her heart slamming against her ribs. For a split second, she thought it had been another nightmare but the sound came again, raw and real, echoing through the palace halls.
She was on her feet in an instant, throwing open her door.
Warriors flooded the corridor, weapons drawn, panic sharp in their eyes.
“North wing!” someone shouted. “The cells!”
Ivy and Rowan ran.
The underground prison reeked of blood.
Torches flickered wildly, casting monstrous shadows across the stone walls. The iron bars of multiple cells had been torn open, bent as if by inhuman strength.
Bodies lay strewn across the floor.
Guards. Servants. Prisoners.
All dead.
Rowan knelt beside one, his jaw tightening as he examined the wounds. “Claw marks.
