[Lyra’s POV]
The silver short-sword lay in the dirt, catching the morning sun, but I couldn't bring myself to pick it up. My hands were shaking too violently.
Bane. The name alone was enough to send my mind spiraling back into the darkest, coldest corners of my past. I could smell the stench of his rogue camp. I could feel the sharp sting of his leather whip across my back when I hadn't stolen enough food for his table. He was a monster who ruled through pure, unadulterated terror, collecting broken wolves and forcing them to do his bidding.
I had escaped him six months ago, running blindly into a freezing blizzard just to get away. And now, he had brought an army to the gates of the most powerful pack in the world, just to drag me back.
"Silas," Alaric’s voice was a low, terrifying gr
