Leah Carter’s Point of View
Cold stone. Damp air. The smell of iron and blood.
That was the first thing I felt when I woke, not light, not warmth, but weight. My wrists burned where metal cut into skin, chains tight enough to dig. I opened my eyes slowly. The world swam in gray and black. A single torch burned low in the corner, its light flickering weakly against walls carved from black stone.
The fortress. I’d heard the stories, the Dark Keep, Seraya’s seat of power in the Wolf Realm. I had thought them exaggerated. They weren’t.
My body ached. My mouth was dry. I tried to move, but the chains clanged sharply, echoing down the empty corridor. The sound made something stir in the shadows, the faint shuffle of footsteps, slow and deliberate.
Then, a voice. Smooth as silk, cold as wint
