The gate spat me out onto cold stone.
I stumbled, catching myself on hands and knees. The impact should have hurt but I felt only pressure, that same weightless disconnection from my body that had haunted me since arriving in the Veil.
Voices surrounded me. Hundreds of them. Whispers and sobs and harsh breathing layered over the ever-present static hum.
I pushed myself up and froze.
Wolves packed the space around me, stretching in every direction as far as I could see. Not the flickering, fading ones from before. These were solid. Real. Their bodies cast shadows in the crimson moonlight, their chests rose and fell with breath, their eyes held the sharp clarity of the recently dead.
All of them bore crescent marks on their left wrists.
