Lyra's POV:
"You."
The word still hung in the air when the second howl came.
Closer.
Not an echo this time.
A response.
My chest tightened.
The bronze one moved first. He crossed the room in two strides and grabbed the curtains, ripping them down and tossing them over the broken window like fabric could stop whatever was out there.
"They're moving faster than they should," he said.
"They're not supposed to move like this at all," the lean one replied.
The tall one didn't take his eyes off me.
"You're coming with us. Now."
"No."
I didn't raise my voice.
I didn't need to.
The refusal sat between us, solid.
His jaw flexed.
"Stubbornness is not going to keep you alive."
"And following strangers who break into my house will?"
His eyes flickered, something dark and sharp beneath the surface.
"We broke in because something else already had a claim on your door."
That word again.
Claim.
It settled heavier this time, like it meant more than I wanted to understand. Like it had rules attached to it. Rules I had already broken without knowing.
I ignored it.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Another sound cut through the night.
Not a howl.
Closer.
Scraping.
Slow.
Deliberate.
From outside my room.
From the hallway.
All four of us went still.
My pulse slammed against my ribs.
"That's not possible," I whispered.
We were upstairs.
The doors were locked.
The windows—
The tall one turned his head slightly.
Listening.
The bronze one's fingers curled. Not nervous. Ready.
The lean one stepped back, positioning himself between me and the door this time.
"Stay behind me," he said again.
I didn't argue.
This time, I couldn't even pretend to.
The scraping came again.
Closer now.
Right outside my door.
Then silence.
The kind that presses into your ears until your thoughts start sounding too loud.
I realized I was holding my breath.
I let it out slowly.
Too loud.
Everything felt too loud.
The tall one moved first. Slow. Controlled. He stepped toward the door, every muscle tight.
He didn't touch the handle.
The door creaked open on its own.
Something breathed on the other side.
Wet.
Heavy.
Wrong.
My stomach twisted.
A shape shifted in the darkness.
Low to the ground.
Too large.
It stepped forward into the dim light.
Another Hollowborn.
But this one—
This one was bigger.
Its body dragged slightly, like it wasn't fully held together. Its ribs showed through torn skin. Its jaw hung too loose, stretching wider than it should.
Something dripped from its mouth. Thick. Dark.
Its eyes locked onto me.
Not them.
Me.
The tall one moved instantly, blocking its view.
It snarled.
And then more movement behind it.
My breath caught.
There were more.
Shapes filling the hallway.
Three.
No.
Four.
And behind them, more shifting shadows that didn't fully step into the light.
"They don't hunt in packs," the bronze one said, low and tense.
"They do now," the lean one replied.
There was no disbelief in his voice. Just calculation.
The first creature lunged.
The tall one met it head on, slamming it back into the hallway wall. The impact shook the frame of the door.
The others surged forward.
The room broke into chaos.
The bronze one shifted fully this time. The change ripped through him fast and violent. Fur, bone, muscle. He collided with two of them at once, driving them back with brute force that cracked wood beneath their weight.
The lean one didn't shift.
He moved like a blade instead.
Precise.
Fast.
Controlled in a way that made everything else look messy.
He grabbed the edge of my dresser and shoved it across the room, blocking the doorway partially.
"Stay there," he told me.
I didn't move.
I couldn't.
My back hit the wall. My fingers curled against it like I could anchor myself there.
One of the creatures slipped past the others.
It climbed over the dresser.
Its limbs bent wrong as it moved, folding and unfolding in ways that made my stomach turn.
Its eyes never left mine.
My hand tightened around the iron poker again.
It felt useless now.
Too small.
Too human.
"Don't," the lean one snapped.
Too late.
The creature lunged.
I swung.
This time, I hit its face.
Bone.
Teeth.
Something cracked.
It barely reacted.
It knocked the poker from my hand like it was nothing.
The metal clattered across the floor, spinning out of reach.
Its weight slammed into me.
The air left my lungs.
My head hit the floor hard enough to spark white across my vision.
Its mouth opened.
Too wide.
Too close.
I smelled it. Rot. Blood. Something older than both.
A blur of movement.
The tall one tore it off me mid attack and drove it into the ground hard enough to crack the floorboards.
I rolled to the side, gasping.
Air burned my throat as it forced its way back in.
The bronze one ripped another creature apart behind him.
Black blood coated the walls now.
The ceiling.
The floor.
My hands.
The room felt too small.
Too loud.
Too alive.
"They're not stopping," he growled.
"They're not here to test," the lean one said. "They're here to take."
Take.
Me.
The word didn't just land this time.
It settled.
Deep.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
This was not random.
This was not coincidence.
This was not something I could stay in my house and pretend away.
Another creature forced its way through the doorway.
Then another behind it.
Too many.
Too fast.
Like they were being driven forward by something I couldn't see.
The tall one turned sharply toward me.
"Enough."
That single word cut through everything.
"Lyra."
It was the first time he said my name.
I froze.
The sound of it felt wrong.
Like he had no right to know it.
Like he had always known it.
"You stay here," he said.
Then he turned to the others.
"End this."
Something in his voice shifted.
Not louder.
Not harsher.
Just final.
The room changed with it.
The bronze one grinned. Not humor. Something darker.
"Finally."
The lean one exhaled slowly.
Then he moved.
He shifted this time.
And it was worse than the others.
Cleaner. Faster. More controlled.
Bones aligned instead of breaking. Muscle formed with precision. Power held tight instead of spilling over.
And somehow more terrifying.
Three wolves now.
Not myths.
Not stories.
Real.
And fighting for me.
The creatures didn't stand a chance.
The fight turned.
Fast.
Brutal.
Final.
It didn't take long after that.
The last Hollowborn collapsed with a wet, choking sound.
Silence returned.
Heavy.
Breathing filled the room.
Mine.
Theirs.
The tall one shifted back first.
Blood ran down his arm.
He didn't react to it.
He just looked at me.
Again.
Always at me.
I pushed myself up slowly, my limbs unsteady. The room tilted for a second before settling.
"Do you understand now?" he said quietly.
I looked at the bodies.
At my destroyed room.
At the blood.
At them.
At what they were.
At what was coming for me.
At the way none of this felt like it was going to stop.
My throat felt dry.
"…yes."
The word was small.
But it changed everything.
"Good," he said.
No relief.
No softness.
Just certainty.
"Then we leave. Now."
I didn't argue this time.