The wind howled against the lonely mountain as Rayne stepped up onto the final ridge, his boots scraping over stone. His hood was down, shadows painting the sharp lines of his face while both hands sat tucked in the pockets of his black jeans, casual posture, cold eyes.
This place…
This was home.
The only home he'd known since dying.
Now it was silent. Too silent.
The ancient cliff opened into a wide plateau and the mouth of a massive cavern, the Dragons' Keep. For years it had been filled with life, heat, fire, and voices that shook stone. Now, as Rayne walked across the cracked surface, the night air felt hollow, as if even the wind was mourning.
He slowed.
