Five wolves descended in a blur of fur and claws, ripping into the nearest demon guards with savage, practiced fury. Blood sprayed, hot and black, splattering across the cracked altar stones.
Kieran landed in a crouch, amber eyes locked directly on Marcus—and for the first time in what felt like forever, Marcus almost smiled.
"You took your sweet time," Marcus rasped.
Kieran's lips curled into something sharp and dangerous. "Told you I was coming, didn't I?"
The king raised a single hand, and more figures surged from the darkness—twisted demon wolves, dozens of them, mouths filled with too many teeth, eyes glowing with that unnatural, green hunger.
"This is cute," the king drawled. "A family reunion."
But Kieran was already moving.
The next moments were chaos—a whirlwind of violence and blood. Wolves collided midair, claws raking through scaled limbs, the clash of old-world strength against cursed magic.
