Chapter 20. One Crown, No Masters

The scream didn’t stop.

It tore through the stone heart of Hollowridge like a blade sawn across bone. Wolves dropped to their knees in the square. Elders clutched their ears. The younger wolves snarled and whimpered as if the sound itself scraped against their minds.

Seraya did not kneel.
She stood beneath the blood-colored sky, her mark burning white-hot across her chest.

Rael appeared at her side, panting. “The southern ridge—collapsed. Something pushed up from underneath.”
“How many casualties?” she asked.
“None we could find.” He hesitated. “Because there’s nothing left. It swallowed the entire slope.”

Seraya stared out toward the edge of the ridge, where ash and smoke curled like black claws into the dawn. Then she turned on her heel.

“To the sanctum,” she said. “Now.”

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