A Command for Vengeance

Alaric couldn’t pull his eyes away from Lyra’s feet. The afternoon sun, bright and unforgiving, caught every ridge and valley of the puckered skin. Those weren’t just scars; they were a roadmap of agony. The thick, waxy white patches on her ankles and the tops of her feet—unmistakable signs of severe frostbite—burned into his retina.

He remembered that night. The blizzard. The freezing wind that