The two remaining Advanced Horrors did not rush Charlotte immediately.
That alone told her they were dangerous.
Ordinary demons, even strong ones, often moved the moment they sensed weakness. They attacked with hunger first and awareness second. They lunged, snapped, tore, and trusted their bodies to correct any mistake before it killed them.
These two were different.
They spread apart slowly.
One moved to her left, claws sinking into the damp soil with each careful step, while the other drifted toward her right, its long body low to the ground as its shoulders rolled beneath stretched, dark flesh. Their glowing eyes never left Charlotte. Not even once. Their heads tilted slightly, nostrils twitching as they drank in the scent of her new form, her blood, her Myst, and the corpse of their fallen kin beneath her claws.
Charlotte remained crouched above the dead Advanced Horror, her massive were-jaguar frame low and tense.
