Dawn breaks red across the tree line. I stand in formation with my unit, thirty Nightshade warriors arranged in defensive positions behind earthworks and fallen logs. The forest floor is soft beneath my feet, damp with morning dew. My heart hammers against my ribs.
Kieran stands three positions to my left, his eyes fixed on the trees ahead.
"Hold position," Torsten commands from the front. "Wait for my signal."
The war drums grow louder. The ground vibrates with the rhythm of hundreds of feet marching in unison.
Then they emerge.
Ashrock's army pours through the trees like a dark flood. Three hundred warriors. Maybe more. They move with practiced coordination, shields locked, weapons ready.
At the front rides Ashrock himself. I recognize him immediately.
"Archers!" Darius's voice carries from the command position. "Ready!"
I shift my grip on my blade.
Ashrock raises his hand. His army stops as one, a wall of warriors fifty yards from our position.
"Nightshade!" His voice booms across the clearing. "Surrender now and I'll grant mercy. Resist and I'll burn this place to ash."
"Like you did to Bloodfang?" Darius steps forward.
Ashrock's expression doesn't change. "Bloodfang were traitors. Just like you'll be recorded in history. Dead traitors."
He drops his hand.
His army charges.
"Now!" Torsten roars.
Arrows blacken the sky. They rain down on Ashrock's front lines. Warriors fall, shields split, horses scream. But they keep coming.
"Brace!" Torsten shouts.
The first wave crashes into our position. Metal meets metal with sounds that make my teeth ache. A warrior lunges at me, sword raised. I sidestep, drive my blade under his guard. Hot blood sprays across my face. He drops.
Another takes his place immediately. I block, counter, feel the jarring impact up my arm as our blades connect. He's stronger, pushing me back. I drop low, sweep his legs. He falls. I finish him before he can rise.
The battle dissolves into chaos.
Around me, wolves fight in both forms. Some warriors stay human, using weapons and tactics. Others shift mid-combat, using teeth and claws where steel fails. Blood soaks into the earth. The smell of it fills my nose until I can taste copper on my tongue.
I spot a familiar face through the press of bodies. Thirven. He trained me in sword work when I was fifteen. Now he's charging toward me.
"Traitor!" he screams.
Our blades meet. Once. Twice. Three times. My arms shake with each impact.
"Thirven, stop!" I try to get through to him. "Ashrock lied to all of us!"
"You betrayed your Alpha!" He swings hard. "You betrayed your pack!"
"Rhys isn't my Alpha!" I block. "And Ashrock killed my real family!"
"Lies!" He lunges.
I shift my weight, redirect his momentum. He stumbles past me. I bring my blade down on the back of his knee. Not deep. Just enough to disable.
He collapses, screaming. I move past him, guilt and fury warring in my chest.
Kieran fights like death itself twenty feet away. His blade moves in patterns too fast to follow. Three warriors surround him. Four. He cuts through them with brutal efficiency, his face emotionless, his movements precise.
A horn sounds from the south.
The sound cuts through the chaos like a knife.
Confusion ripples through Ashrock's forces. Warriors hesitate mid-swing, looking toward the sound. Toward Ironvale.
"What is that?" someone shouts.
"It's from the village!"
"Something's wrong!"
"Hold formation!" Ashrock roars. "Don't break ranks!"
But word spreads through his army like fire through dry grass. Warriors turning to each other, questions and fear spreading faster than orders can contain.
"The eastern gate has fallen!"
"What?"
"Ironvale is under attack!"
"That's impossible! We left sixty warriors—"
"They're saying the gate is open! Nightshade forces inside the walls!"
Ashrock's face goes white. Then red. "It's a trick! Hold your positions!"
But his warriors are already breaking formation. Some try to hold. Others turn, looking back toward their home. The organized army fractures into uncertain groups.
"Now!" Darius's command rings out. "Press forward!"
Nightshade surges. We crash into Ashrock's confused forces with renewed strength. They're scattered, disorganized, panicking.
"Retreat!" Ashrock finally howls. "Fall back to Ironvale!"
His army breaks completely. Warriors run, fleeing back through the trees toward their village.
"Pursue!" Torsten commands. "Don't let them regroup!"
My unit charges after them. I run with Nightshade warriors on all sides, chasing Ironvale forces through the forest. We catch stragglers, disable them, keep pushing forward.
The trees thin ahead. Ironvale Village comes into view.
The eastern gate stands wide open.
Nightshade warriors hold the walls. I see them clearly now, positioned on battlements that should be defended by Ironvale. Below, in the square, figures move. Wolves in Ironvale colors. But they're not fighting the Nightshade forces. They're standing with them.
Loyalists.
Sera's plan worked.
Ashrock's army reaches the village and stops dead. Nightshade forces behind them, their own pack house held against them.
"Inside the walls!" Ashrock screams. "Take back your home!"
Some warriors try to comply. They charge toward the open gate. Arrows rain down from the walls, cutting them down. The survivors stumble back, confused, terrified.
I push through the chaos, searching. Bodies press close on all sides.
Then I see him.
Ashrock dismounts from his horse, blade in hand. He's surrounded by his personal guard, ten warriors forming a protective circle. But the circle is shrinking as Nightshade forces press in.
"Kieran!" I shout over the noise.
He appears beside me, blood-streaked and breathing hard. "What?"
"There!" I point toward Ashrock.
"He's mine," Kieran says.
"No." I grab his arm. "He's ours."
We move together, cutting through the press of bodies. My blade finds throats, bellies, anywhere that stops warriors without killing them when possible. Kieran fights beside me.
Ashrock's guards see us coming. They close ranks.
"The traitor Luna!" one shouts. "And the Bloodfang rogue!"
"Perfect," Ashrock says coldly. "Save me the trouble of hunting you down."
He steps forward, his guards parting. "The last Bloodfang brat. I should have killed you with the others."
Rage floods through me, white-hot and absolute.