“He is our mate.”

Astra repeated it.

Elara hated that the words did not change.

The battlefield blurred around her.

Healers moved between the injured. Warriors dragged rogue bodies into rows. Royal Guards restrained the one prisoner they had mana

The prisoner refused to talk for the first hour.

Elara let him.

He sat chained to a chair in one of Crimson Fang’s old holding rooms, one eye swollen, blood dried along his jaw.

Kael stood against the far wall.

Rhys leaned beside the door.

Derek had ins

The kitchen kept better records than the guard house.

Elara would have laughed if the reason had not made her want to break something.

“Food disappears when people lie about numbers,” said Mara, the elderly kitchen supervisor.

She dragged a thick ledger from bene