Chapter 0395

My voice cuts through the chaos. "All sprites seeking refuge are welcome on our lands. As Guardian of the Realm, I swear my pack and I will protect you. Head to the packhouse—someone will guide you to the bunkers. Now, move!"

Nearly a hundred sprites surge past our borders, their tiny forms darting toward safety.

Alistair's wolf, Orion, joins us, his golden eyes sharp. "Who is Elara?" he mind-links.

"A friend of theirs," I reply. "Another sprite."

My gaze sweeps the battlefield. "Listen up. We have sprites held captive—injured, caged. Alistair, Tobias, Reginald, you're on rescue. Find them and get them out. The rest of us? We're ending these hunters."

I leap, shifting midair. My paws hit the ground as Aurora, my wolf, flares her nostrils. The scents hit me instantly.

"Thirty-three hunters," I relay through the mind link, opening it to the pack. "Five sprites—separate cages, all wounded. Be careful."

Victor's voice is steel. "Flank them."

Our warriors split, encircling the enemy. A few stragglers linger outside the formation. Aurora and I move like shadows, silencing them before they can scream.

Then—chaos.

Magnus throws back his head in a howl just as bullets and arrows rain down. We charge.

Through the fray, I spot Alistair's team working frantically at the cages. One sprite—Elara—lies frighteningly still. No time to dwell. I refocus, tearing into the hunters with fang and claw.

Magnus and Aurora carve through them like a storm. Arrows laced with wolfsbane sting, and a bullet grazes my shoulder. Pain flares, but it's nothing. We fight harder.

Then I see it—a hunter taking aim at Alistair as he pries open a cage.

Aurora lunges. Her jaws clamp around the hunter's arm, wrenching it free with a sickening pop. Blood sprays. His scream is cut short as Magnus crushes his throat.

The battle ends as swiftly as it began.

Most hunters are dead. Alistair and Reginald sprint back toward pack lands, carrying the freed sprites—all but one.

Fenrir whines, nudging Elara's limp form. Her heartbeat is faint, fluttering like a dying ember. I shift, reaching into the cage.

Her injuries are severe. One wing is torn from her back. Her skin is ice-cold.

I lift her onto Fenrir's back, watching as she instinctively curls into his warmth.

"She's freezing, Luna," Tobias mind-links.

"Get her to Seraphina. Now. Go slow—don't let her fall."

As Fenrir lopes away, Victor appears beside me. "Alive?"

"Barely." I scan the carnage. "Are we clear?"

"Every last one." His eyes drop to my shoulder. "You're hit."

I glance at the wound. The bullet is still lodged there. "It can wait. Let's secure the perimeter and dispose of these bodies before more come sniffing."

Victor nods, but his gaze lingers. "Don't push it too long."

I don't plan to. But first—we clean up the mess.