Chapter 47 The Red Veil

Fynn POV The outpost’s gates loom before us, torchlight casting jagged shadows across the dirt, the air thick with the scent of smoke, iron, and something sweeter, sharper—blood, not ours, not yet, but close, a warning woven into the night. My red-gold light hums, a wild pulse under my skin, not just Warden’s balance but something fiercer, untamed, born from the red maw’s choice, a power I claimed but don’t control.