The journey to the Frostspine Mountains was as brutal as the legends foretold. Towering peaks clawed at the sky like frozen fangs, and biting winds howled through the ridges, carrying the ghosts of fallen warriors. Few dared to cross this treacherous terrain—and even fewer returned. But Selene was not like the others. She had survived exile, betrayal, and bloodshed. She would survive this too.
Ronan rode beside her, his eyes ever watchful. Kael trailed a short distance behind, cloaked in an enchanted pelt that protected him from the bitter cold. The snow crunched under their boots as they dismounted near a narrow path winding up the cliffs.
“This is where she watches,” Kael whispered. “If Nyra’s alive, she’ll see us before we see her.”
Selene scanned the cliffs. Sharp ledges and jagged
