Valtira.
I was running.
Raven was bound securely against my chest with soft linen, her tiny weight rising and falling with every ragged breath I dragged into my lungs. I was not alone. One of the midwives followed close behind, her steps hurried, though careful enough not to stumble over roots hidden beneath the dark earth.
The guards Draven had assigned to escort us through the hidden passage had turned back to the pack, choosing steel and blood over safety, joining the others in the desperate fight against the rogues.
Now the forest swallowed us whole.
Howls tore through the night. Some belonged to our wolves, others warped with the savagery of rogues. Yet above it all, louder than the chaos, louder than my own heartbeat, was Draven’s voice echoing inside my mind.
Run, Valtira. Run
