Yara’s POV
Three days.
For three days, I had ridden my horse across unfamiliar lands. My body was aching and my arms were sore, my legs were stiff, and the sun had burned my skin despite the cool winds.
The hunger was manageable, but the thirst was worse. My waterskin had dried up sometime yesterday, and my lips were beginning to crack. Every time I swallowed, my throat felt like sandpaper.
But I knew I could not stop. If I stopped, I would die and I knew it. Stormgate was still ahead, and if I wanted to survive, I needed to get there before my body gave out.
I was focused on the dirt path ahead when I heard the voices of men. A group of werewolf men emerged from the trees.
There were at least five of them, dressed in worn travel cloaks, their faces shadowed under their hoods. They
