Chapter 10: Silver Seeds in Black Soil

Bleakridge Gorge stretched before them—jagged, narrow, and half-buried in snow. A single pass connected the cursed forest to Frostfang’s rear gate. It was their last route, and their most vulnerable.

Freya stood at its edge, eyes narrowed. Her breath misted in the cold air, and the silver threads beneath her veins pulsed faintly.

“We won’t hold this gorge with arrows alone,” she said.

Theo crouched beside her, tracing choke points into a map with his dagger’s tip. “But with traps and collapsing snow ledges, we might funnel their numbers.”

Lark jogged up, face pale. “We found them.”

Freya turned sharply. “Found who?”

“The pups,” Lark said. “Stolen from the Moonclaw orphanage. Shadowhide smugglers were transporting them through the southern tunnels—blood rites. They were going to drain them.”

Freya’s hands clenched. “How many?”

“Five alive. Two didn’t make it.”

No one spoke.