The air in the stables was thin and freezing, a constant gale that whistled through thestone arches. The Clemadead, a creature born of lightning and shadow, was a being of singular loyalty. It was a beast that mirrored the temperament of its master: cold, arrogant, and violently protective of its boundaries.
As Hannah stood at the edge of the feeding trough, her fingers raw from the cold and her stomach still churning from the demonic feast, the beast shifted. Its scales, which usually lay flat like armor, began to rattle with a metallic, threatening sound. It lowered its massive head, its nostrils flaring as it caught the scent of mortality on Hannah. To the Clemadead, she was an intruder.
