Selene's POV

The wolf on his knees did not get up.

I watched him for a moment. He was young. Younger than Dawson. There was a scar on his jaw that had healed badly and a look in his eyes that said he had seen too much in too short a time.

"Say that again," I said.

He swallowed.

"The capital. It's gone."

"Gone how?"

The other two wolves had not lowered their swords. The one on the left was older, with gray in his beard and a hand that did not shake. The one on the right was barely more than a boy.

"Your Majesty," the older one said....