As the wyvern rose high above Durotar and sped southward the night air turned cold, and Anne felt the chill seep into her bones, threatening to betray the numbness she felt. Still wearing the plain brown dress she favored for fishing, she clutched in her frail fingers the letter that had frozen her to the undead heart. It couldn’t possibly be true… he was so careful in his planning, and so strong… it couldn’t be true….