The transition through Silas’s shadow portal was like being submerged in a river of liquid ice. For a heartbeat, the world was nothing but absolute blackness and the crushing weight of his power. Then, with a sound like a thunderclap, we emerged.
We weren't back at the castle. We were standing on the jagged ramparts of the Eastern Gate, and the scene below was a vision of hell.
The forest was screaming. Thousands of Shadow-Crest wolves—corrupted, oversized beasts with glowing red eyes—were throwing themselves against the stone walls. The Northern Sentinels were holding the line, but they were losing. I could see Kaelen in the thick of it, her dual blades a blur of silver, but even she was being pushed back by the sheer volume of the enemy.
"Silas," I whispered, clutching his arm. The ai
