The war drums got louder. Closer. Each beat shook the house.
"What's coming?" Elara asked, holding baby Hope tighter.
Frost's ice-blue eyes suddenly went completely white. She stared at something none of them could see.
"Frost?" Kael asked. "What's wrong with her eyes?"
"She's seeing," Darian said. "She's seeing the future."
"That's impossible," Ronan said. "She's only three months old."
"Tell her that," Elara said.
Frost's mouth opened. When she spoke, her voice sounded older. Wiser. Like she'd lived a thousand years.
"Three armies are coming," Frost said. "One from the north. One from the south. One from the sky."
"The sky?" Kael asked.
"Flying machines," Frost said. "Metal birds that drop fire from above."
"Who's leading them?" Darian asked.
"Someone we know," Frost said. "Someone who wants revenge."
"Who?" Elara demanded.
"Alpha Marcus," Frost said. "He's not dead. He's been planning this for months."
"But we saw him die," Ronan said.
