The deafening blasts of cannon fire echoed between the mountain peaks. Each boom sent my heart racing faster, tightening my chest until I could barely breathe. Smoke billowed from the fortress walls, dark plumes rising against the afternoon sky. The scene before me was something from a nightmare—Hawk's Pass Fortress under relentless assault, and somewhere inside those crumbling walls was my husband.
"Alaric," I whispered, his name catching in my throat.
Sir Kaelen grabbed my arm, pulling me lower behind the rocky outcrop. "Your Grace, we need to find cover. The Scourge's forces are mobilizing everywhere."
I watched in horror as tiny figures, like ants from our distant vantage point, swarmed around the fortress base. Massive wooden siege engines—towering constructions that hadn't been visible before—were being pushed toward the fortress walls. The rebels were committing everything to this final assault.
