Chapter 41. Break the Chain

The swollen moon hung low and heavy above the treetops, its bruised-red light leaking through the pines like a wound that would not close. Every branch trembled in that sanguine glow, every needle and twig stained in bloodlight. Shadows stretched long and quivered under the orb’s glare, as though the forest itself feared to move. Beneath that bleeding moon, the Thorn Pact scouts prowled through the undergrowth with savage precision—wolves among wolves—yet this night it was the Council’s forces who cowered behind locked gates and shuttered windows, the echo of distant hoofbeats turning hearts to ice.

Aeryn rode at the head of the first raiding party, her pale cloak caked in dust and flecks of dried mud, trailing behind her like a dark banner across the forest floor. The braided leather at her throat bore the faint glint of her mark, but there was no crown upon her brow—only a cold determination that pressed on her shoulders like iron. She felt the weight of three strikes ahead: