It was the first true grass Crimson Howl had seen in three seasons, and the valley was peaceful and green under a chilly dawn. Just six hours prior, Beau's final patrols were forced to retreat across the river with their tails between their legs after Heath's scouts claimed it.Standing on the eastern hill with Savannah covered in borrowed furs by his side, Heath felt the wind whipping his cloak. The sunrise was reflected like new blood in her ruby eyes. Thirty Crimson wolves labored silently beneath them, erecting rudimentary barriers and setting ironwood pegs.Then there was a horn sound.The Ironwood Pack, consisting of 120 fighters in dark leather with black tree sigil-painted shields, emerged from the northern tree line in perfect formation. Jasper, who was as large as an ox, had a beard braided with bone beads, and had eyes as cold as winter iron, rode at their head.Over the ridge, Scarlett spat. "Bastard wasted no time."Heath had a narrow smile. He detects weakness. Let's sho