Corvus Nightshade's Arc

Chapter 1 of 11

Corvus crouched low in the wet grass and counted patrol torches along the ridge. Twenty years of planning had brought him here, to the edge of the court that had thrown him out as a child. He would take that throne back. But first he had to survive the next hour. The cluster of old oaks loomed ahead, their heavy trunks marking the line no exile was meant to cross again. He had lingered too long. Hoofbeats rolled in from the east. He needed cover, and he needed it now. A small blue shape slipped between the trees. A wolf, its fur lit with soft pink marks, watched him with calm orange eyes. It turned and trotted back the way it had come. Corvus followed, because instinct said he should, and because instinct was all he had left. The wolf led him to a red farmstead tucked in a fold of the hills. The barn door stood open. Corvus slipped inside as the patrol thundered past on the road below. He pressed his back to the wall and breathed. He had his foothold.