The weight of the four Part B

The howl lingered long after the storm swallowed it, threading through the night like a warning no one wanted to interpret. The hybrids shifted uneasily, weapons drawn, eyes scanning the treeline as if the sound might materialize into claws at any moment.

Damian lowered Mia carefully to the ground, brushing damp hair from her face. Her skin was pale, almost luminescent, as if the flame still burned beneath it. He pressed two fingers to her pulse—weak, but steady. Relief loosened something in his chest, though it didn’t erase the fear.

“She’s alive,” he said, his voice low but firm enough for the others to hear. “But she’s drained. She won’t wake soon.”

Kael’s blade was already unsheathed, glinting in the firelight. “Then she’s vulnerable. And whatever answered that light knows it.”

“Not just whatever,” Eryx murmured, fingers brushing the sigil stones at his belt. “Whoever. That howl was a call, but it carried intention. Something aware. Something old.”

Lysandra shivered, her fire flic