Nash’s pov
The battle in the central courtyard was over, leaving behind only the heavy, suffocating stench of wet ash, burning pine, and blood.
Rogue corpses lay scattered across the mud, and the few remaining sentries who hadn't fled into the northern wilderness were bound in silver chains by my heavy vanguard. The flames that had engulfed the canvas tents were dying down into glowing red embers, washing the smoldering ruins in a dim, eerie orange light.
My bare chest heaved in ragged, shallow gasps.
Every breath pulled cold smoke deep into my lungs, tearing through my chest like broken glass. Thick leather straps bound white bandages tightly across my back and torso, but the linen was soaked dark red with fresh blood where the ten unhealed lashes had split open during the fight.
My
