Startled, I stumble back as it skids across the wooden floorboards, claws scraping against the planks as it comes to a halt beside Lyrea.
It’s nearly as large as Vaelen with midnight black fur and golden eyes.
“This is Rhyka.” Lyrea gestures to the wolf. “She’s mine. Don’t worry. She’s come to protect us.”
Outside, another scream echoes through the streets as the bells continue their frantic ringing.
“Come with me,” she says, as she gathers Ailyn up in her arms, rushing toward a door near the back of the kitchen. “We’ll hide in the cellar.”
Rhyka and the wolf pup follow us down the darkened staircase. The air is cooler here, carrying the faint smell of apples and stored grain. A single lantern hangs from a wooden beam, providing just enough illumination to guide my steps so I don’t trip over any of the supplies down here.
Lyrea slams the door shut, reinforcing it with a wooden plank.
Rhyka immediately plants herself in front of it, fur bristled, ears flat against her skull as her lips curl back in a feral snarl, revealing two rows of dagger-sharp fangs.
Tears stream down Ailyn’s face as she clings to her mother, her tiny body trembling and the wolf pup squirming nervously in her arms.
Something crashes overhead, followed by the sound of glass shattering. My blood turns cold as heavy footsteps thunder across the floorboards above us.
Ailyn whimpers and Lyrea smooths a hand over her hair. “Shhh,” she soothes. “We need to be quiet.”
BOOM. The cellar door shudders violently, and dust rains down from the ceiling.
Ailyn screams, and the pup yips in alarm.
Rhyka crouches low, a vicious growl rising in her chest, her entire focus centered on the door.
The hinges groan as another crash shakes the wood.
Lyrea turns to me. “They’re going to break through.” She holds out her daughter. “Here. Take Ailyn. There’s a door in the back. The stairs lead to the outside.”
My hands shake as I gather Ailyn in my arms. “What about you?” I ask as another loud boom vibrates the floor overhead. “Come with us.”
Blue magic curls around Lyrea’s fingers, sparking like lightning as she turns back to the door. “You must go,” she says urgently. “I’ll stay here and hold them back as long as I can to give you and Ailyn a chance to get away.”
“But—”
A deafening crack splits the air as the wood starts to give.
Lyrea’s glowing blue eyes meet mine, full of panic. “Run!”
The door bursts open in an explosion of splintered wood, followed by a thunderous roar.
“Go!” she yells.
Rhyka snarls and charges forward as Lyrea’s magic arcs from her palms.
I spin on my heels. Holding Ailyn tight to my chest, I race toward the back of the cellar, the wolf pup following close behind us. Up ahead, a crack of daylight illuminates the exit. I run up the stairs, slide the latch, and push the doors open.
Chaos swallows the street the moment I burst from the cellar. Black smoke thickens the air, stinging my nose as I clutch Ailyn tightly against my chest and stumble forward into the madness.
Dark elves sprint through the streets, their powerful magic flashing in brilliant streaks of blue and violet toward their enemies.
The Ogres are everywhere. They’re even larger than I imagined. They’re heavily muscled, with thick gray skin, covered in tattooed markings. Their dark hair hangs down their backs in thick, heavy braids decorated with gold cuffs and beads that match the rings in their pointed ears.
Huge Fire wolves with blood red eyes fight beside them, snapping and lunging at the Dire wolves in a frenzy of fangs and claws.
Magic arcs from one of the Elves, hitting the nearest Ogre square in the chest in an explosion of blue light.
