Alden’s POV Behind us the fight between Fudge and Cody still raged with snarls, thuds but the pack had already noticed the fleeing wagon. Shadows peeled away from the well and the burning houses, yellow eyes locking onto us like arrows nocked and released.I stood braced on the front bench, reins wrapped so tight around my fists the leather bit into my palms. The horses were terrified, ears flat and necks lathered with foam. Every bounce sent pain shooting through my shoulder where I’d slammed into something sharp during the escape from the house. Blood trickled warm down my back, but I didn’t dare look.In the wagon bed, Elara was screaming.Not words at first just a raw, endless wail that cut through the thunder of hooves and the howl of pursuing wolves. Finn’s small body had gone limp in the jaws of the beast that had leapt aboard. The wolf shook him hard like it was breaking a doll to see what was inside. Blood sprayed across the canvas tarp we’d thrown over Hoseman, dark blooms

Alden’s POV I crawled out from under the wreckage first, hammer clutched in my good hand and shoulder screaming every time I moved it. The pain was distant, muffled by shock and adrenaline that hadn’t quite burned out. Rowan followed, sword drawn and scanning the treeline. Thomas dragged himself free next, thigh wound freshly opened and bleeding again. Hoseman groaned under the tarp but Elara didn’t move. She stayed curled in the tipped wagon bed, staring at the dark stain where Finn had died, lips moving without sound.The howls from the square had faded to distant echoes. Whatever had called them back had bought us a fragile pocket of quiet.Rowan crouched beside me, voice low. “We can’t stay here. The road’s exposed. If any stragglers spot us…”I nodded. My mouth tasted like copper and dirt. “The fields are too open and we need to take cover.”Thomas pointed with his chin toward an overturned food cart a dozen paces away that was probably abandoned when the first howls started

Alden’s POVThe road felt longer after Elara died as every step dragged the weight of her final moments behind us, the wet rip of her leg coming away, the way her fingers brushed Finn’s hair one last time and her eyes when she whispered Let me go. I kept seeing it every time I blinked. Thomas and Hoseman hadn’t asked what happened when we returned to them. They just looked at our hollow and blood streaked faces and started walking. No questions asked and honestly that was best.We left the burning village behind by mid-morning. The smoke followed us for hours, a grey ghost on the wind, until the road curved into low hills and the smell finally faded. The sun climbed high, mercilessly baking the dirt path and turning our sweat into salt crusts. Hoseman’s fever had started in earnest; he shivered even in the heat, muttering nonsense about Percy and the cave. Rowan and Thomas took turns carrying him, trading off every mile or so. My bitten forearm throbbed in time with my heartbeat, red

Alden’s POVI dropped the first heavy sack of silver at Calder’s feet just inside the forge doors. The clatter of candlesticks, spoons, rings, a bucket, and a horseshoe echoed off the stone walls and died against the roar of the coals. Calder barely glanced at the pile. He was already moving with thick gloves on, tongs in hand and began thrusting the silver chains Rowan had snapped off the post into the heart of the fire. The metal hissed as it met the heat, edges softening, then slumping into a bright, molten pool in the crucible.Rowan stood at the anvil, sleeves rolled to the elbows, hammering a rough bar of silver into a longer, flatter shape. Sweat ran down his face in dark tracks through the soot and he didn’t look up when I entered.Calder lifted the crucible with steady hands and poured the glowing liquid into a shallow mold. Steam exploded upward. When the silver cooled enough he knocked a rough ingot, still faintly red at the edges. He set it on the anvil and began crushing

Suddenly an arrow pierced Thomas’s throat.The shaft came from nowhere black-fletched and perfectly aimed. It punched through the side of his neck with a wet, meaty thud, the broadhead bursting out the other side in a spray of arterial blood. Thomas’s eyes widened in shock. His spoon clattered to the dirt floor. He choked once then spat a thick gout of red across the stew bowl he’d been holding. The bowl tipped and rolled away, stew mixing with blood in a dark puddle.Maria’s scream started high and sharp with pure terror then twisted, warped, and became something else entirely into a loud, wild, unhinged laughter that filled the small hut like poison smoke.Thomas’s hands flew to his throat. Blood poured between his fingers in pulsing jets. He tried to speak but only bubbles came out. Another arrow followed the first piercing his neck again just below the Adam’s apple. The second shaft drove deep, pinning his windpipe shut. He gasped, a horrible wet rattle, eyes bulging as he clawed