IOWYN
Within that darkness, a face formed—not physical but suggested, like seeing patterns in storm clouds. Female features of terrible beauty, eyes that contained not pupils but endless falling, a mouth that smiled with the same crescent shape as the corruption patterns.
"Little wolf plays with frost and moonlight," came that layered voice we'd heard in the throne room—the Shadow Queen, projecting her consciousness through the corruption. "How adorable. How futile."
Savannah didn't back down, silver pathways flaring beneath her skin as she faced the manifestation. "Cute projection. Compensating for something?"
The face in the void-column laughed—a sound like glass breaking in slow motion. "Defiance. Spirit. I can see why they're drawn to you, little wolf. But do they know what truly
