They came at dusk.
No war drums this time. No warning.
Just a stillness so deep it felt like the kingdom forgot how to breathe.
Vireya stood on the upper ramparts, Kael beside her, wind catching the edges of her cloak.
The field beyond the walls was empty.
Too empty.
The kind of quiet that always came before death.
Theoron’s voice broke through the silence. “North wall. Movement.”
Kael didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
Vireya watched the horizon shift—shadows folding over each other like smoke given form.
She heard it before she saw them.
Whispers.
Dozens of them.
No language. No structure.
Just sound.
Like voices echoing from a place without time.
And then?
The attackers surged forward.
Not wolves.
Not beasts.
These were worse.
Twisted remnants of what had once been pack—the
