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Chapter 13 – The Pulse of Instinct
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Chapter 15 – The Whispering Hunt
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... he fog hanging low and swollen with silence. The Shroud always felt like it was listening—each breath swallowed, each step absorbed by the dead stone. Night here wasn’t a time of day; it was an old, permanent bruise over the world.
Bright tightened his grip on his sword with his good hand. His sprained wrist throbbed with every shift of weight, wrapped in dirty bandages that did nothing to stop the ache. The blade felt heavier than normal, not because of its design, but because of how mu ...
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