City of Ruin

Mount Ulra is not the City of Ruin, and that was Asha’s mistake. It roars like an unholy demon, the sound booming through the wood, stirring birds and creatures from their nests. But one—one—blessedly strikes his face, drawing a scream from his chest, a howl of a sound that rattles the room as the fire blisters his cheek and singes his hair. Like a lost thing finally found by the one meant to hold it.