Silvertip Mountain BLACK FEATHERS

he had heard the anguished cry some hours before, but had arrived too late upon the scene; they had gone to the plains by then. but now, he received merrick's summons with stiff shoulders and a lump in his throat. when he spotted the gathered wolves, and then the body of his leader's mate, his stomach plummeted.

the words floated in, one by one, though he could only grasp a few at a time for how shocked he was. saints. avenged. kill.

it seemed they were going to war.

not knowing that the singer was looking for him as well, surya found ashlar in the crowd and sidled up beside the dark young man, a worried frown upon his maw. my god, he said, his voice low and hollow. they tore her apart.

it had been a fight. astara was ripped to shreds, black pelt in tatters, the lank still form so at odds with the dynamic movements he'd witnessed from the shadow in life. he swallowed, thickly. whoever had done this should pay.

beyond everything—beyond even the prisoner—this was surya's greatest test.