Lyria could not stop staring.
The wolf under the wall had her father's face.
Not a trick. Not a shadow. Not her mind playing games after too much blood and too many hidden rooms.
His face.
Her father in wolf form stood low in the dark passage with silver fur along his shoulders and rage in his eyes. The sight hit her so hard that for one second she forgot Kael was standing beside her, forgot the chained rider, forgot the older man in the back, forgot the broken shrine above them.
Her father was alive.
And he was a wolf.
Kael felt her go still and stepped closer at once. His hand touched her back. Not enough to push. Enough to keep her from falling apart on the spot.
The rider on the wall coughed and hissed through the pain in his shoulder. "Now you see it."
The older man in the passage gave a low laugh. "Too late anyway."
Mira snapped her head toward him. "You keep talking and I'm going to put my sword in your mouth."
"Try it," he said.
