The Wolf's Destiny

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Scrolls and parchment piled high on Jeren’s desk, curling riotously, rolling off the edge. More letters had been delivered this morning, more than ever. Letters of desperation, letters begging for aid, letters requesting or demanding that she return home. Drawing her ancestral blade, Jeren stood very still, staring at the mess, wondering if there was any way she could just set fire to the lot of it and run.

Instead, she laid the sword across the pile of papers, holding them down in place so she wouldn’t lose any of them. Kneeling down in front of the desk, she slid the first one out and broke the seal. It came from South Holt. A long way across vast and often hostile territory, to reach her here in exile in the far north of the Feyna ruled province of Sheninglas. Up here, where humans had no place, where she and those who followed her were making a home among the other race they had once feared and reviled. So she could be with her Feyna husband. So she could find some peace.

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