DRAKENFELL - TWO MINUTES BEFORE EXECUTION
Gavriel Sterling was unconscious. The execution was not going to wait for him to wake up.
Hundreds of wolves filled the square.
Tiberon Drakenfell stood at the front. His posture was military. His expression was granite. The King of Drakenfell attended executions the way he attended everything: with the full weight of the crown visible on his shoulders and zero of the feelings visible on his face.
Dexmon stood at Tiberon's right, jaw set. His dress uniform was buttoned to the collar, and every controlled breath he took cost him something he would never admit, because the woman about to die had assaulted him in his sleep, and watching the consequence of that delivered by blade was a particular kind of closure that felt less like relief and more like watching a door close on a room he never wanted to enter again.
Finnick Shadowclaw stood beside Garrett Darkhowler. Foreign king. Familial connection to the condemned.
