Chapter 15 - March into the Frostbite Gorge
The wind howled through the jagged cliffs of the Frostbite Gorge like a pack of starving wolves. Thick sheets of snow fell from the gray sky, reducing visibility to mere yards.
At the head of the royal vanguard marched Caspian in his hybrid form, his pristine white fur standing out against the blinding white snow like a beacon of absolute sovereignty. Walking right beside him, wrapped in a heavy, fur-lined cloak of forest green, was Lyra. Her hand rested comfortably on the hilt of a fine steel blade she had learned to wield over the past weeks.
From the high ridge above, Lord Malric watched their approach through a pair of crystal spyglasses, a cruel smile twisting his weathered face.
"Look at them," Malric mocked to his lieutenants. "The great Blackstone King has brought his human pet to slaughter. Sound the horns! Trap them in the center of the gorge and leave no survivors!"
War horns echoed off the canyon walls, and hundreds of massive northern wolves, clad in spiked iron armor, poured down the steep slopes of the gorge, blocking both the front and rear exits. They outnumbered the royal vanguard three to one.
Caspian didn't flinch. He stopped in the center of the icy valley, lifted his massive head, and let out a roar that shook the very icicles clinging to the cliffs above.
It was the unadulterated, genetic command of the Alpha King.
For a fraction of a second, the front ranks of the charging northern fighters faltered, their instincts screaming at them to drop to their knees. But Malric, standing on a ledge above, roared back, injecting his own volatile dark magic into his pack's minds to override their fear.
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"Kill them!" Malric shrieked. "Tear the king apart!"
The battle exploded into a chaotic storm of flashing steel, snapping jaws, and roaring beasts.
