Kyra's POV
The sound of the warning bell echoed through the northern outpost as Matron Kyra positioned herself at the narrow window of her temporary quarters. Her fingers gripped the rough wooden sill while she surveyed the scene below.
She had traveled through treacherous mountain passes expecting to find chaos. Instead, torches moved in organized patterns along the fortress walls. Soldiers called out commands with disciplined precision rather than panicked screams. The rhythmic clash of steel against claws carried across the courtyard, but underneath it lay an unsettling sense of control.
This was not the disaster she had been promised.
"Explain your delay," Kyra commanded without turning from the window.
Rodrigo stood at attention behind her, his posture rigid with nervous energy. "My apologies, Matron. The situation proved more complex than anticipated."
"I'm listening."
