Chapter 7

Iezabel’s keen eyes swept around the clearing as she paced the camp, alert for any sign of intruders. The woods remained unusually calm, except for the faint watery murmur of Endor. She brushed off the snow on her hood and shoulders, cursing the skies. The cold did not affect her much, but her sodden clothes did annoy her, what with the icy condensation crawling down her skin.

She had never seen Ayana more frightened and traumatized than she had been in the presence of those accursed creatures. The vyáha had taken care of the runaway vlarik before returning to Argent, but that did not mean the threat was past them. In fact, Ayana was in more danger than ever. How those creatures had found them was still a mystery to her.

Iezabel rushed forward as Ayana emerged from her tent, stumbling on her feet as she tried to stuff them into a pair of fur lined boots. She helped her into them and forced her into a warm cloak, before wrapping a scarf around her neck.