Zarek.
The ride to Draven’s lands felt interminable, each mile stretching into a torment of time, though I urged the horses forward with every ounce of strength I possessed. By the time we reached the borders, my fingers had clenched around the reins until the sinews burned, nails biting into leather.
Zachariah rode beside me, silent as shadow, eyes fixed on me with measured caution, yet he did not speak. My guards formed a steadfast line behind, armor glinting, blades ready, hearts trained for violence at the first spark of threat.
Beneath my skin, my wolf fidgeted, pacing and growling, eager to rend the world in half.
I did not know if Valtira was within these lands… yet every fiber of my being screamed that she was.
The guards at the gate stiffened the instant our presence drew nea
