Out of the frying pan and into the fire, they say. Well, I'm about to learn just how true that aphorism is.
First I have to meet a queen in hand to hand combat and hope I come out as the victor, because only one of us will walk away from the training grounds alive.
Second, I have to try and find a way to live with the fact that three of my four mates unwittingly betrayed me.
And then there's the king, who's looking me over with a speculative eye, and not just as his wife's challenger.
But most of all, there's the damn Reavers that are slowly gnawing at the edges of Strelae, killing people, burning fields, and all the while the capital keeps going about its business, as if there's no threat looming on the horizon. Somehow, some way, the five of us have to get the king, the people admitting there's a problem. Because if we leave our response too late, we may not even get a chance to fight back.
I dream over and over of a pack of wolves running across the earth, swallowing, tearing, chewing, everything in their path and I'm terrified that all of us will be next.

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