The grand dining hall of the Ironcrest packhouse was a masterpiece of opulence, practically dripping in crystal and gold. Dozens of massive chandeliers cast a warm, glittering light over the long mahogany tables, illuminating the joyous faces of the pack elders, elite warriors, and high-ranking offi

The dawn sky over the Ironcrest Pack was the color of a bruised corpse.

A bitter, howling wind ripped through the central courtyard, carrying with it the sharp scent of incoming snow. But the snow was a mercy compared to what lay on the ground. The Trial of Frost was an ancient, barbaric punishmen

Freya woke to the smell of mildew and damp stone.

She blinked, her eyelids feeling like sandpaper. The ceiling above her was cracked, low, and stained with water damage. She was lying on a thin, lumpy mattress that offered no support, covered by a scratchy wool blanket that smelled faintly of moth