#Chapter 213 – Marked Ones

Damon The snow came down in heavy, uneven sheets, swirling in circles around the valley. A cold snap heralded spring wasn’t ready to arrive. Even for the north, this was no ordinary storm. Something that felt very wrong. I moved through the village, helping where I could. Windows were sealed with cloth in the cracks, livestock brought inside. The people here were hardy, used to winter’s teeth. But none of them could smell what I did. Rot and blood and steel. The scent cut through the storm. It wasn’t near, but it wasn’t far, either. Zane stirred, pacing restlessly. You smell it. Rogues, I answered silently. No, he growled, his voice deeper than usual. They’re marked. I stopped in the center of the square, letting the wind tear across my face. Beneath the clean scent of snow, there it was again. Faint but undeniable. Burnt metal, and the acrid sting of alchemical ink. Asher’s command mark. My pulse quickened. The marks were outlawed years ago; the scars were b