CHAPTER 205
The shadows in the guest wing were long and sharp, clinging to the corners of the room that was rapidly—and reluctantly—becoming Aleric's own.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his head hanging between his shoulders, staring at the floor as if he could see straight through the floorboards and into the cold stone of the cells below.
He hadn't slept. Not even for a minute. His mind was a chaotic loop of Isabella's words from the night before, replaying the details of the skirmish in the woods until his skull felt like it was going to split.
Three scouts. One dead, likely cooling in the dirt of the Northern forest. One escaped, surely sprinting back to the South with news. And one… one was currently a prisoner under the very roof Aleric was trying to call home.
Aleric's jaw tightened. He was sure of it—as sure as he was of his own name. Those wolves hadn't been a random scouting party.
