The Bloodiron estate was a fortress of glass, steel, and dark stone, nestled deep within a jagged mountain ravine. It was a stark contrast to the opulent, gilded halls of my Obsidian home. There was no unnecessary art here, no decorative vases or velvet drapes. Everything in Kaelen Cross’s world ser

Dawn at the Bloodiron estate did not break with gentle sunlight. It bled over the jagged peaks in bruised shades of violet and gray, casting long, skeletal shadows across the courtyard. I hadn’t slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Julian’s face hovering over my paralyzed body, his false tears

I woke to the smell of burning wood and the soft crackle of a hearth.

For a moment, I lay perfectly still, staring at the vaulted ceiling of my guest quarters. The excruciating pain in my bones was gone, replaced by a deep, hollow ache. I took a breath and reached inward, searching for my wolf.