Kaen rode alone, the wind thick with dust and tension. His wounds ached, not all of them were real, but the pain was. Bruises darkened his ribs, and claw marks marred his shoulder. It wasn’t just acting; Draka had insisted on it.
“Make it convincing,” Draka had told him, gripping his shoulder firmly. “Lucas doesn’t trust easily. You must bleed for the lie to look real.”
Kaen hadn’t argued. He was the only one who could do this. A loyal soldier. A weapon in disguise.
As he approached Lucas’s kingdom, the air grew colder. The trees were barren, twisted by dark magic and the weight of war. The fortress loomed ahead, steel gates, spiked towers, and patrol wolves in dark armor.
He inhaled sharply, gripping his side where the deepest cut throbbed.
Here we go.
Kaen dismounted and stumbled t
