How so many people willingly chose to side with evil.
Shadows infiltrated the stage—Night Stalkers in their all-black uniforms—grabbing the other Elders and throwing them to the ground.
With a violent roar and a flash of dark hair, Jesalynn shifted into her massive wolf form. The Stalker before her was nothing but shredded skin and leather by the time I could blink.
I jolted back, hitting my head on the thick stone podium. Ears ringing, I gritted my teeth against the swell of sharp pain.
A pair of combat boots appeared before me, splattered in dirt and blood. I didn’t let my eyes trail any farther up. Ignoring the pounding in my skull, I whirled out of my hiding space and ran. I hopped off the stage, landing on the slick stone between two werewolves.
I’d recognize the shape of their snouts, the color of their fur, the loyal gleam in their eyes anywhere: Shanley and Mau.
A figure landed before Mau, their approach lethally silent except for the whir of their red-tipped blade. Yellow-slitted eyes glowed beneath their hood.
My friends swept into formation, becoming a shield of snapping jaws and fierce growls.
Another being dropped into our space. Hissing, they swayed their head from side to side. I stepped back, staggering into the eroded edge of the stage. They slithered closer, a forked pink tongue darting out of the darkness under their cowl.
More growls filled the air, but at that point, I didn’t know who they were coming from.
With a chuff, Shanley pointed her nose towards the wilderness. Go, she seemed to say. She lowered into a crouch, mirroring Mau. With a final throaty warning, they lunged.
I darted towards the trees, jumping over bodies, skidding on moss, splashing through shallow pools of fluid.
My stomach turned.
There were too many shadows, too many people bleeding out. I could help. And yet… I kept running, kept my face straight ahead, kept my gaze locked on the thick foliage.
Shanley had told me to flee, but who was I kidding? I would have done that anyway.
Bands of pressure tightened around my heart. Coward, it thumped.
Wavering at the threshold of the forest, I watched the streams of light shining down from the clearing get swallowed by the dense wall of trees and undergrowth.
Selfish. Thump. No better than a demon. Thump.
A devilish scream curdled the night.
Not allowing myself to turn around, I dove into the darkness. Thin branches whipped my face as I sprinted through the trees. Pine leaves tugged at my hair. Even bolder shadows dotted the night—I knew better than to assume they were redwoods.
The brush rustled a few feet over. Someone carving a path beside me.
Shanley? Mau? Relief eased the ache of my muscles. Lungs stabbing, I slowed.
Fumbling for my phone that’d been stashed in my pocket, I tapped the screen—no bars, that was a given—and shone it in front of me. The trees were colossal. The leaves were still.
The air was heavy with silence.
“Sh-Shanley? Mau?” Despite the effort to be quiet, it felt like every hushed syllable, every labored gasp, echoed in the night—like the wild pounding of my heart was covering the sound of someone else’s footsteps.
The hair rose on the back of my neck.
If it was a friend, they would have shown themselves by now. A twig snapped.
I held up my light, shining it over a wall of ferns. “Who’s there?”
And if it was an enemy, they surely would have pounced by now.
Another snap. A crunch. Behind me this time. My breath caught in my throat.
