Rhea Everwood
The biting wind whipped strands of hair across my face as I finally reached the northern border. I saw the guards standing hunched, their breath misting in the cold air as they surrounded the corpse.
"Alpha Rhea," one of the guards addressed me.
"Uncover it," I commanded, my voice flat, devoid of the tremor that had begun in my stomach. My gaze swept over the other guards, their faces grim, avoiding my eyes.
The guards nodded and peeled back the fabric covering the corpse slowly.
My breath hitched, and the world seemed to tilt as bile surged in my throat.
The body was matted with dark, crusted blood, his skin torn in places, revealing raw flesh and bone. Deep, jagged gashes marred his chest and abdomen, some looking like crude stab wounds, others like savage rips from
