The cavern had become her training ground. Every breath turned the air white. Every step left frost crawling across stone.
Reign stood at the center, hands open at her sides. The direwolf watched from the shadows, unmoving.
She had spent the night analyzing the journal, trying to piece together who might be watching her and why. But dawn brought different concerns. The frost that had saved her life so many times was becoming harder to control. It leaked from her skin when she slept, spread across surfaces she touched, responded to emotions before she could stop it.
If she couldn't master it, eventually it would master her.
She raised one hand. Ice erupted from the ground in a wall of jagged spikes. Good. But crude. She tried again, focusing on smaller shapes, tighter control. This time
