Chloe’s pov
The mountain wind howled through the Dead Pines Valley, dragging the freezing rain across my face as I rounded the sharp granite bend.
The dark forest ended abruptly, giving way to the bone-littered, mud-soaked expanse of the rogue encampment. Dozens of ragged canvas tents stood gray and silent under the black sky, smelling overwhelmingly of wet fur, stale ale, woodsmoke, and the foul, sour residue of Morgath’s dark magic.
The moment my boots hit the muddy clearing, the camp went dead silent.
Rogue wolves emerged from the shadows like starved scavengers, stepping out from behind tents and supply wagons. Filthy, heavily scarred warriors stood with their arms crossed over their chests, their dark eyes fixed onto me with hungry, predatory sneers. Whispers rippled through the l
