Book 2 in The Great Houses of Elarion series

For as long as anyone could remember, Cassian Dawnmane had been called the Lion of the East.

As the heir to House Dawnmane, his duty extended far beyond the walls of his golden palace. Every village, forest, mountain pass, and grassland within his territory fell under his protection. He regularly patrolled the borders himself, believing a ruler should know the land—and the people who lived upon it.

Late one autumn evening, while returning from inspecting several frontier villages, Cassian's lion instincts caught something unusual.

A scent.

Human.

It was impossibly faint, carried on the cold wind through the dense Dawnwood Forest.

Humans almost never wandered this deep into lion territory.

Slowing his mount, Cassian listened.

Nothing.

Then...

The unmistakable sound of branches snapping.

Someone was running.

He followed the scent through the trees until he reached a small clearing.

There, huddled beneath the twisted roots of an ancient oak, was a young human woman.

Her clothes were torn.

Mud stained her skin.

Fresh bruises marked her wrists where restraints had once been.

She clutched a threadbare blanket to her chest as if it were the only thing she had left.