"Even in defeat, the shadow plots its return for chaos never accepts the rule of Law."
VORATH'S POV
The frozen plains were a blur of humiliating, agonizing retreat. The sun, fully risen now, mocked the Alpha of Shadows with its cold, relentless light. The Northern Castle, which should have been a crumbling ruin, stood defiant, its walls smoking but utterly intact. The raw, dark fury that had fuelled Vorath's charge had been crushed by the clean, devastating efficiency of the ambush. He rode at the center of his broken Legion, his armor ringing with the sound of his suppressed rage.
His lieutenants, Krane and Lira, rode flanking him, their faces pale with shock and failure. The stench of corrupted blood and fear clung to the air, the scent of defeat.
"Report, Krane!" Vorath roared, his voice cracking with the strain of holding his Dark Alpha Law in check.
