The fall had dumped her into a lower chamber, one she hadn't known existed. The direwolf had found another way down, and together they'd climbed back toward the surface through networks of ice tunnels that felt older than the mountains themselves.
But the moment they emerged from the cavern system, something was wrong.
The air smelled of iron.
Reign froze mid-step. Every instinct went silent, waiting. The direwolf stopped beside her, nose lifted to test the wind.
Blood. Fresh blood, and lots of it.
They moved through the trees without speaking, following the scent until the snow turned from white to red. What had been a rogue camp was now a s*******r site. Bodies sprawled between collapsed tents, most torn apart in ways that spoke of systematic violence rather than frenzied attack.
S
