The journey to the stronghold took three days. Three long, painful days where every step felt like walking through fire.

Laura rode on Zephyr's back in his wolf form. Her burned hands gripped his thick fur. Her blind eyes saw nothing but darkness.

But she could feel everything else. The wind on her face. The scent of pine trees. The steady rhythm of Zephyr's breathing beneath her.

Dante walked beside them. His wounds were healing, but he still moved carefully. Every few minutes, he would touch her leg. Just to make sure she was okay.

Orion scouted ahead. The old healer knew these mountains well. He led them through hidden...