I moved slowly through the chaos, unsure of where to begin.
The battlefield was madness layered upon madness.
Massive wolves—some the size of small cars—were tearing into one another, fur and blood staining the snow in violent streaks. Their snarls echoed against the mountains like thunder. Among them, the white-haired black warriors clashed with their mirrored enemies, spears and curved blades flashing under the pale Antarctic light. Their long ears twitched with every sound; their blue eyes burned with fury.
Two blurs streaked across the battlefield at impossible speed—one was clearly Juliet. The other had to be the man in the orange parka. They moved like streaks of shadow and frost, appearing and disappearing, leaving broken bodies in their wake.
And then—
Pain.
A tall, slim figu
