Chapter 11
- Xander Jade
- May 17
- 5 min read
By the time Erik limped back to the farm, the last rim of daylight had drowned in the ocean. The house glowed like a lantern in a world of bruised sky and ice, and every step toward it felt heavier than the last. His hand—the right one, of course—ached from the cut he’d picked up at Gudrun’s post, a shallow slice that should have scabbed over but instead throbbed and pulsed like a warning. He flexed it as he came through the door, trying to hide the way it trembled.
