The Nightfang Den was a hive of controlled activity, despite Ronan’s absence. Lyra had been anchored to the Oracle Chamber for twenty-four hours, providing Finn, the acting commander, with near-constant updates on Sasha’s precise movements. The assassin was moving more slowly than anticipated, allowing Ronan valuable time to reach Shadowfang.
Lyra had just confirmed the assassin had stopped to rest, a detail Ronan needed for his own pace, when she heard a sharp, panicked shout from the main hall.
“The supply run is late! The storm hit the eastern pass harder than we thought, and they haven’t reported in for eight hours.”
The tension in the cabin immediately spiked. Nightfang relied on its carefully managed resources, especially during a time of war readiness. A prolonged interruption co
