The solar garden was unusually quiet.
Katherine knelt beside a winter bloom, fingertips brushing snow-dusted petals. “Strange,” she murmured. “No guards. No wind. No birds.”
She stood slowly.
Too late.
A cloth clamped over her mouth. The sharp scent of silverroot burned her nose. Pain lanced through her skull.
---
She woke in darkness.
Cold stone. Chains. Dim torchlight flickering against iron bars.
Her wrists were bound—silver-laced cuffs biting into skin. Her wolf was... silent.
A figure stepped from the shadows.
Arius Whitefang.
Damian’s cousin. Charismatic. Ambitious. Dangerous.
“Well,” he drawled, crouching before her. “The infamous sun-wolf awakens.”
Katherine stared at him coldly. “Didn’t realize you were this desperate.”
He smiled. “I prefer the term *opportunistic*.”
“Where are we?”
“The old raven tunnels, beneath the eastern ridge. Not on Whitefang land. Not on any land, technically.”
“You’re insane.”