PREVIEW

... ke frost to the bones.

On the blackstone walls, Valtor's claws gripped the battlements, his eyes sweeping the treeline with slow, brutal precision. No movement. No sound. Only the ragged breathing of his soldiers and the faint hiss of torches reigniting, their flames weak against the lingering dread.

"Hold your lines," he barked, voice hoarse but firm. "No one moves until I say."

Below, the men obeyed without question, shields raised, eyes darting between one another as i ...

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