Adrein.
My lungs burned like fire, every breath dragging the sharp, heavy stench of copper and sweat deep into my chest. Blood was slick on the stone floor beneath my boots, making every step a calculated fight for balance as I shoved forward in the narrow hallway.
Noah was right beside me, his broadsword a blurred wheel of heavy, brutal steel. But he was faltering. The lingering effects of the wolfsbane were catching up to him, his shoulders shuddering with exhaustion every time he parried a heavy strike.
Around us, the last of Noah's house guards collapsed onto the bloodied stone. One by one, they had fallen to the sheer weight of the assault, leaving just the two of us standing at the threshold of the medical wing.
There were only three of Vincent's elite soldiers left standing out of the thirty that had smashed through the doors—and their scarred captain was right in the center, his face twisted in a desperate, bloodthirsty sneer.
