Violette didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Words failed her in the face of what hovered above them.
The creature descended like a nightmare, its glowing yellow eyes fixed on Fane with terrifying precision. With a shriek that split the night, it dove—razor-sharp claws slicing across Fane’s face in a clean, brutal arc.
Fane staggered, hand flying to his cheek as blood streaked down his face, shock flashing briefly through his eyes.
The creature didn’t stop.
It landed in the field with a thundering impact that trembled through the soles of Violette’s boots. Its wings folded like living shadows against its sides, and it turned with menace toward Fane, glowing eyes unwavering.
Massive—easily the size of a horse—it prowled with the poise of something ancient. Smoke-black fur rippled across its body, shifting like mist. Its wings shimmered faintly in the moonlight.
Not natural. Not from this world.
Violette’s heart pounded. Her finger hovered over the trigger, but for the first time in years, she hesitated.
Symond’s whisper came beside her, ragged and shaken. “What is that?”
She didn’t answer. Because she didn’t know.
Her eyes flicked instinctively to the barn, to the spot where Rell and Elora had disappeared beneath the rubble.
Violette’s next shot was flawless and centered for Fane’s skull. But he raised a plated arm just in time. The bolt ricocheted with a sharp clang, sparks skittering from the aloyt steel. He grunted at the impact, gaze flicking between her, the monster, and the still-burning wreckage behind them.
The beast hissed again, its wings spreading wide in warning before it leaped into the air and vanished, swallowed by the night.
“What? Where did it go?” Symond asked, scanning the sky.
The creature reappeared in a blur of movement and fury, plummeting like a meteor. It struck Fane from behind with bone-shattering force, its massive claws raking across his back. The shriek of tearing metal echoed as it tore through his enchanted armor.
Fane roared, staggering under the weight, twisting as the creature’s fangs lunged for his throat.
Violette’s breath caught.
Is it helping us?
The thought was dangerous. Hope was dangerous. They couldn’t afford to gamble on loyalty.
“Symond!” she barked, snapping him out of his daze.
He jolted. “What?”
“With me—now!”
He hesitated just long enough to make her want to curse, then nodded, falling in beside her.
They sprinted across the field, not toward Fane, but toward the collapsed ruins of the barn.
Where Rell and Elora had last been seen.
Where she refused to believe they were buried.
The rubble was chaos: crushed beams, splintered boards, and choking dust thick in the air. Violette dropped to her knees, her fingers clawing through the debris. Every second scraped at her nerves.
Symond was beside her in silence, no sarcasm, no complaints. Just focus. He tore through the wreckage with the same urgency, his hands raw and shaking.
“Come on,” Violette muttered, heart pounding against her ribs. “Come on, Rell…”
A flicker of movement caught her eye, a faint shift beneath a heavy board.
