The emissary arrived three days after the m******e.
Reign spotted the white flag from the fortress walls, a pale strip of fabric stark against the gray wasteland. Her hand went to her weapon instinctively.
"Truce banner," Tarek said beside her. "Council seal."
She studied the lone figure trudging through the snow. Too deliberate to be a trap. Too arrogant to be anything but official. "Let him come."
They met in what remained of the fortress great hall. Reign sat on a chunk of fallen pillar her wolves had positioned like a throne. The direwolf sprawled at her feet, a living reminder of the power she carried. Around them, seventy rogues lined the crumbling walls, weapons visible.
The emissary stopped at the entrance, snow melting off his expensive cloak. The Council's silver wolf sigil
