Malrik’s Desperation
The battlefield roared with chaos, shadow wolves surging like waves against Crimson Fang’s defenses. Malrik’s dark magic seeped through the air, suffocating and corrosive. Each wave of his power left warriors stumbling, their strength drained as though the battlefield itself had turned against them.
Draven fought at the front lines, his claws a whirlwind of fury. His amber eyes burned as he tore through shadow-wolves and rogues, his growls sharp commands to his warriors. Susan fought nearby, her blade flashing like silver lightning, cutting through the unnatural enemies.
Isla stood on the ridge above the battlefield, her silver eyes locked on the devastation. Her father and Eira flanked her, their expressions grim. Eira stepped forward, her emerald eyes narrowing as she raised her hands. “We can’t wait any longer,” she said firmly. “Malrik’s relic is fueling him—it’s consuming the battlefield.”
Her magic flared to life, emerald tendrils of light spiraling outward to meet the tide of shadow wolves. The air crackled as her power collided with Malrik’s, creating a storm of light and darkness that sent shockwaves across the field.
“Go!” Eira shouted over the roar of the battle, glancing back at Isla. “Stop Malrik while I hold them off!”
“Eira—” Isla started, but Eira cut her off with a fierce look.
“There’s no time for doubt!” she snapped. “Trust me, Isla. This is what I’m here for!”
Reluctantly, Isla nodded, gripping Draven’s arm as they prepared to move toward the heart of the battlefield. But before they could leave, Malrik’s magic surged with new intensity, and a tendril of shadow lashed out toward Eira.
“Eira!” Isla screamed as the shadow struck her, sending her sprawling to the ground. Blood trickled from her temple as she struggled to rise, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
Kaelen’s roar split the air, and he abandoned his position at the rear lines, rushing to her side. “No!” he growled, his golden eyes blazing with fury as he lifted her into his arms. “You’ve done enough.”
Eira’s fingers curled weakly around his arm. “Protect… Isla,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Kaelen’s gaze flicked to Isla, and for a moment, their eyes met. Then he turned and carried Eira away, leaving the battle behind.
Isla’s chest tightened as she watched them retreat. “Draven,” she said, her voice trembling, “we’re on our own.”
Draven growled low in his throat, his amber eyes locked on Malrik in the distance. “Then let’s end this,” he said, his voice a promise.
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