Sebastian
The moment I stepped back into Yormsborg, something felt wrong.
The fortress loomed in its usual shadowed glory, walls dark with frost, but the air was too still. Too silent. No greetings from the guards at the gates. No whisper of movement in the halls. Just cold stone and silence.
I didn’t speak to anyone. I didn’t stop for food. I headed straight for my chambers.
The door was slightly ajar.
I pulled out my claws as I pushed the door open.
The scent hit me first—iron, fresh and potent. Then I saw it. Sprawled across the floor like some grotesque rug was a hide—flayed clean, the fur still intact.
Black and grey with streaks of white.
My knees buckled for the briefest second.
Denford.
It was Denford’s pelt.
I stared at it, unable to breathe, unable to move. I’d known
