Selene

The war room of Shadowfang was a cold, cavernous space, its stone walls lined with maps and weapon racks and the air thick with the scent of ink and iron. I stood across from Draven and braced my hands on the table. The great hall was being cleared of debris, but the memory of Kaelen’s taunting smile and the Bloodfang warrior’s words about Dorian burned in my mind. My son was at the Red Cliffs outpost, and every second we wasted was a second he was in Kaelen’s hands.

Draven was bent over a map, studying it with narrowed eyes. Blood still flecked his leather tunic from the fight,...