Chapter 66

• The air outside the cave felt sharper, colder, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of danger. A dark mist clung to the rocks, seeping out from the cave's jagged entrance like a living thing, as if the ritual within was already twisting the very fabric of the world. Demion gripped his sword tighter, his heart thudding in his chest with a rhythm that matched the intensity of the battle they were about to face. The shifters, fae, warlocks, and their other allies were positioned just behind him and Ariana, the tension rippling through their ranks like a coiled spring ready to snap.
• With a glance, Demion gave the signal, and the first strike began.
• The shifters charged ahead, their bodies shifting mid-run into massive wolves and hulking bears. Fenrir led the pack, his fur bristling and his growl cutting through the night air like thunder. They moved in a blur of muscle and fur, claws digging into the earth as they rushed forward. The warlocks followed in formation, their staffs glowing with ominous light as they muttered incantations, weaving layers of protection over the charging shifters. The fae moved with eerie grace, slipping into the shadows like ghosts, their ethereal forms flickering between visibility and nothingness as they prepared for their ambush.