A Narrow Escape
Malrik finally turned, clutching the satchel like a lifeline, the Moon Amulet glowing faintly in his bony hands. His grin of triumph faltered as he realized what had happened. “No,” he hissed, his eyes narrowing. “You—”
“Me,” Draven growled, his amber eyes blazing. “You’ll never control her again.”
Malrik’s expression twisted into a mask of fury and madness. He took a step forward, the Moon Amulet’s light casting eerie shadows over his sharp features. “You think this changes anything? I have the amulet, brother! The future is mine!”
Draven growled low in his throat. “Keep your trinket, Malrik. You’ll need all the power in the world to stop me from ending you.”
Isla straightened, her strength returning in waves. Her voice cut through the tension, cold and sharp. “You think that relic makes you a leader? You don’t even know what it means to protect a pack.”
Malrik snarled, his gaunt form trembling with rage as he clutched the glowing artifact tighter. “Protection is a lie. Power is all that matters. And now I have it!”
He took another step toward them, but the cliff’s edge crumbled slightly under his weight. The sharp sound of falling stones seemed to echo endlessly into the abyss below.
“Don’t!” Isla shouted, her voice filled with defiance. “You’ll destroy yourself before you destroy us.”
But Malrik’s obsession blinded him. “I’ll destroy everything you hold dear,” he spat, his gray eyes gleaming with madness.
Draven turned, his grip firm on Isla’s waist as he began guiding her toward the hidden path where his warriors lay in wait. “You’ll destroy nothing,” he growled over his shoulder. “Enjoy your moment, Malrik. It won’t last.”
As they disappeared into the shadows of the rocky terrain, Isla twisted in his arms, casting one last glance over her shoulder. Malrik remained kneeling at the cliff’s edge, cradling the satchel with a mix of reverence and obsession. His laughter rang out, sharp and hollow, echoing into the vast chasm behind him.
But it wasn’t just his triumph that chilled Isla. It was the unrelenting hunger in his eyes, the way his body trembled not from weakness but from the sheer force of his fixation. She shivered, the sound of his laughter following them like a ghostly specter, mingling with the low hum of the wind over the abyss.
Draven’s steps quickened as the concealed path came into view, his grip on Isla tightening. “We’re almost there,” he promised, though his voice carried a dangerous edge.
Her heart thundered in her chest, her fear mingling with relief as the shadows of Crimson Fang’s warriors emerged from their hiding spots. But even as they slipped into the safety of the waiting pack, Isla couldn’t shake the weight of Malrik’s gaze, burned into her memory like a brand.
They might have had their little victory. But the war had only just begun.
