The wind sliced through the mountain pass like a blade, shrieking between jagged peaks and howling in the ears of those who dared climb its spine. Aria kept her hood tight, the fur-lined cloak doing little to stop the sting of frozen air. Snow whipped at her face, half-blinding, and her fingers were numb beneath her gloves.
Tobias rode ahead, his wolf senses guiding them through terrain where maps meant nothing. Elara followed close behind, a faint shimmer of storm magic crackling beneath her skin to stave off the cold. Dorian stayed beside Aria, eyes constantly scanning the cliffs for signs of danger. Marcus had remained behind at Hollow Fang, and though Aria knew it was the right call, she still felt his absence like an ache in her chest.
