The morning of the battle arrived in a brutal, bone-chilling hush. A sub-zero wind whipped through the jagged limestone chasm of Frostfang Gorge, whistling through the pine palisades like the shrieking of war specters. By six in the morning, three hundred allied rogue warriors—uniting Kaelen's Blackwood pack, Gunnar's heavy Ironclaws, and the swift River archers—stood in disciplined, iron-shod ranks along the natural stone ramparts. Every fighter had blackened their face…
Keep reading in the app
This chapter is in the Booknovel app. Unlock it with coins, a short ad, the free timer or VIP.
Scan with your phone camera
Opens chapter 17 directly. New readers get free coins.