"Prepare a convoy for tomorrow morning. We head back to Dravengard. My honeymoon has just been cut short," Derek said into the phone.
He stood a few yards from his car and the courtyard chaos, speaking quietly into his phone to Connor and Dray. Behind him in the centre of the open courtyard, a pyre had been lit, consuming the remains of the Umbras and the few brave gammas who had lost their lives defending the stronghold. The orange glow lit up the night, casting long shadows across the stone ground. The smell of smoke and burnt fur hung heavy in the cold air.
