Caden carried me through the narrow corridors of my father’s Estate, his cloak wrapped tightly around my naked, bloodied body.
The sounds of the battle above grew louder as we climbed—the clash of weapons, the screams of the dying, the roar of wolves mid-shift.
But he didn’t stop.
He didn’t acknowledge any of it. His focus was entirely on getting me away from the wine cellar, away from the wreckage, and away from Sylvie.
We came out through a side entrance that led into the cool night air. A carriage was waiting, it was sleek and had an insignia of Shadow-Crest barely visible on its door.
It must have been the carriage Caden’s decoy—who was now dead—rode in.
Caden pulled open the carriage door.
That’s when I saw her.
Sora.
She sat in the carriage with her arms crossed, her dark
