Lyra's POV:
I didn't argue this time.
That was the first thing that scared me.
Not the blood, not the bodies, not the fact that everything I believed about the world had just been torn apart in one night.
It was how easily I stopped fighting them.
The tall one moved first. Always him. He stepped toward the door, scanning the hallway like he expected something else to crawl out of the dark.
"Take what you need," the bronze one said, already moving. "We don't stay."
Stay.
Like this place was no longer mine.
Like it had already been lost.
My chest tightened.
I turned slowly, looking at my room.
Or at least what was left of it.
Glass everywhere.
Blood on the walls.
The floor cracked.
The dresser shoved halfway across the room.
This was where I slept. Where I worked. Where I built something small and safe.
And now it looked like something had tried to eat it alive.
Maybe something had.
"Lyra."
The tall one again.
Closer now.
Waiting.
I swallowed and forced my legs to move.
I grabbed my satchel first. It hung by the side of the dresser, untouched somehow. My hands shook as I opened it.
Herbs. Dried roots. Small vials.
Normal things.
Pointless things now.
Still, I took them.
Because it was the only part of my life that still made sense.
"What are those?" the bronze one asked.
"Useful," I said without looking at him.
He huffed softly. Not mocking. Not quite approving either.
I shoved a few extra cloths into the bag, then hesitated.
My eyes drifted to the small wooden box under my bed.
I froze.
Don't.
There was no time.
Something outside let out a low, distant sound. Not a howl. Not quite.
Waiting.
I dropped to my knees and pulled the box out anyway.
The wood was worn smooth from years of being handled.
I opened it quickly.
Inside, wrapped in faded cloth, was the only thing I had kept from before Brey Hollow.
A thin silver chain.
And a small crescent pendant.
Cold.
Even now.
I stared at it for one second too long.
"Lyra."
Sharper this time.
I snapped the box shut and shoved the pendant into my pocket instead.
The chain followed.
The box stayed behind.
I stood quickly, slinging the satchel over my shoulder.
"I'm ready."
The words felt strange.
Too final.
The lean one stepped toward the doorway, pushing the broken dresser aside with ease. He paused, listening again.
"They're circling," he said quietly.
The bronze one cursed under his breath.
"Already?"
"They're not hunting blind," the lean one replied.
That word again.
Hunting.
For me.
The tall one looked back at me.
"Stay close."
I almost said something.
Something sharp. Something defiant. Something that sounded like me.
But the words never came.
Because I believed him.
And that was worse.
We moved.
The hallway was worse than my room.
Blood smeared across the walls. Deep claw marks carved into the wood.
Bodies.
Too many.
I stepped around them carefully, my stomach twisting with every movement.
One of them twitched.
I froze.
"It's dead," the bronze one said without slowing.
"It moved," I whispered.
"It doesn't matter."
That didn't help.
We reached the stairs.
The apothecary was destroyed.
Shelves overturned. Glass shattered. Herbs scattered across the floor like debris after a storm.
Mara.
My chest seized.
"Mara," I breathed, moving forward.
A hand caught my wrist.
The tall one.
"She's gone," he said.
My heart dropped.
"What do you mean gone?"
"No blood," the lean one said, scanning the room. "No body."
The bronze one crouched near the counter, touching something on the floor.
"Taken," he muttered.
The word hit harder than anything else tonight.
"No," I said immediately. "No, she wouldn't just leave. She would have called me. She would have…"
My voice trailed off.
Because I already knew.
Mara wouldn't leave.
Not like this.
Not without me.
My fingers curled into fists.
"This is because of me."
None of them answered.
That was answer enough.
A cold anger settled under my fear.
Sharp and steady.
"We're finding her," I said.
The tall one's gaze snapped to mine.
"Not now."
"Not now?" I repeated. "She was taken."
"And if you stay here, you will be too."
"I'm not leaving her."
"You already are."
The words cut.
Clean.
Accurate.
I stepped closer to him, my chest tight with something that felt too close to breaking.
"You don't get to decide that."
"I do if you want to live."
Silence stretched between us.
Tense.
Unmoving.
The bronze one shifted slightly.
"Not the time," he muttered.
The lean one's gaze flicked toward the door.
"They're here."
Everything inside me went still.
A slow scrape came from outside.
Across the ground.
Closer.
The tall one released my wrist.
"Move."
This time, I didn't argue.
Not because I agreed.
Because I understood.
We stepped out into the night.
The air felt different.
Heavier.
Like it was watching.
The forest loomed ahead, dark and endless.
Behind us, the town sat quiet.
Too quiet.
No lights.
No movement.
No people.
"They cleared it," the bronze one said under his breath.
"Not cleared," the lean one replied. "Avoided."
That was worse.
A low growl echoed from somewhere in the dark.
Then another.
And another.
Not close, not far.
Everywhere.
My pulse began to climb again.
The tall one stepped slightly in front of me.
Protective.
Possessive.
I didn't know which.
"Stay behind me," he said.
I almost laughed.
The words felt familiar now.
Like they had been said too many times already.
We moved toward the forest.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
The ground shifted under my boots. Leaves, dirt, roots catching at my feet.
I wasn't made for this.
I knew that.
They moved like the forest belonged to them.
I followed like it was trying to swallow me.
A branch snapped somewhere to the left.
I turned too fast.
Nothing there.
But I felt it.
Eyes.
Watching.
Tracking.
"Don't look for them," the lean one said quietly.
"Why?" I whispered.
"Because they want you to."
I faced forward again.
My hands clenched at my sides.
The sounds followed us.
Soft.
Persistent.
Closing in.
"How many," I asked.
No one answered at first.
Then the bronze one spoke.
"Too many."
That was not helpful.
We moved deeper.
The trees thickened. The moonlight barely reached the ground now. Shadows stretched and twisted between the trunks.
The tall one slowed suddenly.
I almost walked into him.
He lifted a hand slightly.
Stop.
We froze.
Silence fell again.
Not natural.
Not empty.
Waiting.
Then a voice.
Low.
Unfamiliar.
From somewhere ahead.
"You shouldn't have taken her."
My breath caught.
The tall one's body went rigid.
The bronze one shifted his weight. Ready.
The lean one's eyes narrowed.
"You shouldn't have let them find her," the voice continued.
Something moved between the trees.
A figure stepped forward.
Tall.
Still.
Watching us like we were the ones being hunted now.
My stomach dropped.
I didn't know how I knew.
But I knew.
This was worse than the Hollowborn.
Much worse.
The man's gaze landed on me.
And he smiled.
Not kindly.
Not cruelly.
Like he had been waiting.
"Found you," he said softly.
My pulse slammed.
The tall one stepped fully in front of me this time.
Blocking me completely.
"Run," he said.
My breath caught.
"What?"
"Run."
The command hit harder than anything else tonight.
Behind him, the others shifted.
Not hesitation.
Preparation.
Something was about to happen.
Something bad.
Very bad.
The man in the trees tilted his head slightly.
"You can try," he said.
And then the forest moved.
Not the wind.
Not animals.
Everything.
Shadows tore forward.
Shapes burst from the dark.
Not Hollowborn.
Not wolves.
Something else.
Faster.
Stronger.
Controlled.
The tall one turned his head slightly.
"Now, Lyra!"
This time, I didn't think.
I ran.
Branches tore at my arms. Roots caught at my feet. My lungs burned as I pushed forward into the dark.
Behind me, the forest erupted.
Snarls.
Crashes.
Something breaking.
Someone shouting.
I didn't look back.
I couldn't.
Because I knew if I looked back, I might stop.
And if I stopped, I wouldn't survive.
The sounds followed me.
Closer.
Faster.
Not all of them stayed behind.
Something was chasing me.
I could feel it.
Breathing.
Closing in.
My foot caught on a root.
I stumbled.
Fell hard.
The ground slammed into me, knocking the air from my lungs again.
I rolled, trying to push myself up.
A hand grabbed my throat.
Cold. Unyielding.
I froze.
The man from the trees stood over me.
No sound, no warning, just there.
His grip tightened slightly.
Not enough to choke.
Enough to control.
"Told you," he said quietly.
My heart pounded against my ribs.
Too fast.
Too loud.
"You can't outrun what already chose you."
My vision blurred slightly.
Not from lack of air.
From fear.
Real fear.
The kind that settles deep and refuses to move.
Behind him, the forest had gone silent again.
Too silent.
I swallowed hard.
"What do you want?" I managed.
His gaze softened slightly.
That was worse.
"You."
The same word.
Different voice.
Different meaning.
Or maybe the same meaning.
Just more dangerous.
His fingers tightened.
And then—
A snarl ripped through the silence.
Right behind him.
His head snapped to the side.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
Enough for me to see the blur of movement coming straight for us.
Enough for me to realize I wasn't alone.
And whatever was about to hit him was not going to miss.