Chapter 22
The wind, a tangible, malevolent entity, howled a furious battle cry, tearing at Bianca’s cloak with savage glee, a physical manifestation of the fear that gnawed at her insides. Each icy gust was a brutal assault, a relentless reminder of her isolation, her vulnerability, her precarious position perched high on this treacherous, windswept mountainside. The snow, a relentless assailant, stung her face, blurring her vision into a swirling vortex of white, a chaotic maelstrom that threatened to disorient her, to swallow her whole, to bury her alive in its icy embrace. But Bianca pressed on, her breath misting in the frigid air, a visible testament to the exertion, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs, a relentless rhythm that mirrored the pounding of the storm. She knew Xerxes was wai
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