The battlefield had gone quiet. No more clashing steel. No more screams. Just wind dragging snow across ice and bodies.
Reign stood over Kieran's frozen corpse, chest heaving, blood running from wounds that hadn't stopped bleeding. Around her, wolves from both sides had stopped fighting. They watched her. Waiting.
She knelt beside the body of her former mate.
His face was locked in that last expression of shock, eyes still wide, mouth half-open. Frost covered him completely now, turning his fur white and his skin the color of old ice.
She pressed her claws against his chest. The ice cracked under the pressure as she began to carve.
The crescent wolf of House Glaciara. Her family crest. The one they'd burned from her wrist when they cast her out. She carved it deep, letting blood well
