Raised by wolves in the frozen Ironwood, Ylva hunts with bone knives and thinks in scent. When she tracks her parents' killers to the mead-halls of Hrafnheim, she discovers not a monster but a thread in a web far larger than one man's crimes — a web of necromantic corruption, bone charms, and a seiðr-master who finds her interesting. From frozen northern fjords to scorching southern deserts, Ylva's journey is a story of exile, vengeance, and the slow, painful discovery of what it means to belong.
