Chapter 11

The night sky was stained by a blood-red moon. That night, wolf and silver armies faced off at the border. The air filled with thunderous growls, wind whipping up dust and the scent of blood. I stood on a high cliff, silver cloak snapping in the wind. The staff in my hand gleamed softly. Elias stood beside me, expression serene. "Lucien won't yield easily." "I know." I looked up at that familiar figure—black robes, golden eyes, lonely as night. He stood at the center of the battle formation,...