“What does the Ironspeaker say, Starving Wolf?” the valkerax asks. Half disgusted at the valkerax’s wounds, my words come out short. “Why do you keep calling me that?” “Those are the true names of you.” The valkerax pulls away from me, its body heat fading into the cold darkness. “You are the Starving Wolf. The warmblood watching us with many eyes is the Ironspeaker. True names hold your power.”
