“He’s okay now,” Koa muttered, scanning him and using his healing power over his neck where the dart went in. “Type II is aggressive, but the purgegut venom took most of it. He’ll be wiped, maybe sore, but he’s out of danger.”
We dwindled the humans’ numbers to nothing in less than a minute. Some tried to run, but they didn’t get far.
When the fighting stopped, the silence pressed in.
Rune let out a shaky breath and smacked her brother’s back. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Sorry,” Tobias rasped, attempting a weak grin. “Next time, I’ll dodge faster.”
“Yeah, you better,” she said, worry seeping down the bond.
Sylver kept her face pressed into his neck from behind, but her entire body was tense as she held her mate.
I stepped in, hand landing on his free shoulder. “You good?”
He nodded, still breathing hard. “I’ll live.”
“Good,” I said. “I don’t want to explain to my mate why I let her favorite brother die.”
“I’m heronlybrother.” He snorted before he winced.“Asshole.”
“Rest,” Koa scolded him. “Don’t get worked up. We need to get him to the wagon.”
“I’ve got him,” Sylver insisted.
“I’ll help,” Koa told her.
“Koa, come get me if he needs me. Sylver, take care of him,” Rune murmured, worry tight in her tone.
“Finish the mission, little vixen. Sylver’s Tobias’ mate. She’s got him, and I’ll come get you if we need you.” Koa kissed Rune’s forehead before he bent down to help Sylver get Tobias on his feet.
“I’ll take care of him, Rune,” Sylver promised her before they half-carried Tobias toward a sheltered spot near the edge of the square where the healers could monitor him.
“You did your part in making sure he’d be okay,” I assured her.
“I know.” She nodded, tearing her gaze from her brother and toward the carnage around us.
Bodies littered the streets.
The thick, coppery scent of blood hung heavy in the air, making each breath a struggle.
Rhyse and Zuko dragged their human captive into the center of where we stood.
“He says everyone was killed,” Zuko announced, voice flat. “No one was spared. Not even children.”
My jaw clenched at that.
Humans calledusmonsters.
Lysa’s tablet buzzed as she finished a sweep. “Thermal scan says all known residents are down,” she reported. “No living signatures above ground. We’ll still need to check under the structures, though.”
“I hear something,” I said, shushing them.
Everyone quieted.
A small cry reached my ears. It was faint and muffled, but it was there.
A baby’s cry.
