Chapter 122

••• Damien’s POV ••• The border winds howled like restless wolves—sharp, unforgiving, hungry. I stood at the southern line, boots pressed into cracked stone, eyes fixed on the distant haze where Martin’s troops lingered just beyond scent range. The Infernal Shadows warriors formed two tiers around me, fully armored and deadly still, waiting for my next command. “Report,” I snapped, my voice cutting through the air like a blade. Noah stepped forward, tablet in hand, wind whipping his jacket. “East flank’s holding. But they’re trying to push through the lower ridge. Scouts found claw marks and broken bramble near the Ravine Path. Classic Martin move—using terrain to thin our numbers.” I nodded once. “He’s testing us. Not attacking—yet. Coward wants to stretch us thin first.” “Hold position,” I commanded everyone. “Don’t engage unless ordered.” I turned my attention back toward the horizon. Rage coiled tight in my chest, but it was tempered—refined. Because while Martin played shadows and