Leah POV
"The Western Council sent fifty heavy cavalry riders across the border at midnight!"
Olivar slammed his iron key into the cell lock, turning the bolt with a loud, metallic clack that rang through the damp stone dungeon.
The heavy oak door swung open, revealing the captured scout sitting on a low wooden stool in the center of the dark cellar. His hands were tied securely behind his back with thick leather rope, his green coat torn and covered in dried river mud.
"You are wasting your breath, wolf," the scout spat, leaning his head back against the cold granite wall with a bitter sneer. "Lord Marcus does not make deals with southern mutts."
Benedict stepped past Olivar into the dim torchlight, his broad shoulders casting a massive, looming shadow over the stone floor. He did no
