As the patrol arrived, the snow crunched under their boots. The cavern's mouth was illuminated by flickering light from the torches they carried, giving the entire area a sinister, golden glow. The air still smelled strongly of blood.
With one hand on the hilt of a stolen blade and the other tied possessively around Elaria's wrist chains, Draven stood still in the center of it all, his bare chest smeared with drying crimson.
With her eyes downcast and her heart pounding like a drum beneath her skin, she knelt at his feet.
This was the game now.
Prisoner. Captive. Enemy.
Even though his touch on the chain was gentle. Even though she could still feel the heat of his mouth on hers from moments ago. Even though the bond between them vibrated like a live wire.
The Kaelith wolves spread
