Chapter 26
{Ryanna's Pov}
As chaos ensued. I sank to one knee, firing arrow after arrow as rogues scrambled to safety. One massive brute tried to intercept me, but the rock structures from where he stood stopped him from getting a clear shot. I sidestepped, letting the arrow sail. It struck him in the knee and he fell, roaring in pain. Without wasting time, I shot a second arrow dropping the next bandit rogue and charging Basten from the side.
The ridge below was in a frenzy: tents crushed, rogues scattering like panicked animals. Basten and Adolph moved without mercy. Tearing into the flesh of any bandit that dared get in their way. Adolph particularly had a vendetta with them. So he was especially ruthless.
Basten was fast and calculated, his curved claws sang through the air as he severed limbs and pierced hearts, each movement refined like a dancer with death for a partner. He spun low, slid beneath the swing of a brute’s hammer, and drove his hand into the underside of the rogue’s jaw with a grunt. Blood splashed across his face, and he didn’t blink.
Adolph was different. He fought like a varmint unchained, fury pouring out with each devastating strike. There was no grace in his actions, only raw, vicious revenge. He tackled a larger rogue into a broken tent, and when they rolled out the other side, Adolph emerged dragging a bloodied body and the other man’s severed arm. His eyes gleamed wild, his jaw clenched tight.
Every bandit he brought down, he left broken in more ways than one. I knew why.
He’d told me once, in the quiet before sleep, about how they’d tied him to wooden posts and laughed while they tested their blades on his skin. He’d survived through sheer spite. Tyrion had found him, bled and starved, and given him a reason to live again. This battlefield was his altar now, and the blood he spilled was his offering.
A brute charged him from behind, but Basten caught it first. He flung a small throwing knife which Basten swatted away with ease. Without hesitation, he hacked the rogue across the chest and brought his fist down again and again until there was nothing but pulp. The two men met eyes and gave brief nods. No words. None needed.
A growl from an approaching wolf snapped me back from the scene. He made it up the cave charging at me when I dislodged a root and an avalanche of rocks went barreling toward him.
Adolph’s shout told me to move. Rogues were regrouping and they were heading for me first. I dashed down the slope, all the way to Basten’s side, Adolph just before us: “They’re gathering near the southern exit… Just as planned.”
I smiled, wiping sweat from my temple. “That’s Magnus’s cue, right?”
We surged forward, having blocked all other routes, and prepared a special surprise for all those we didn’t get, who headed for the southern exit.
Magnus.
Ahead, twenty rogues scrambled, over half their forces dead. They formed a scattered circle. They’d recovered enough to form a defensive line. All transformed, ditching their crude weapons. But their display fell short. I raised my head and let out a sharp whistle.
Magnus had a small stash of explosives and had been sent ahead of us to prepare just this. The whistle was the signal and he ignited it. He struck the flint and a soft hiss followed and a short burn.
Then…
BOOM!
The explosion frightened them terrified them at the same time. A brilliant sparkle lit the upper cliff face, and for a moment everything stood still. But that was an illusion, the earth wailed. A low, thunderous rumble, like the mountain itself cleared its throat. The jagged ridge broke down and immediately gave way, releasing a surge of stone and rock onto the rogues. Boulders the size of wolves were released, plunging in a roar of confusion.
The rogues below let out a unified bloodcurdling yell, virtually louder than the sound of the explosion. Some of them tried to escape, but it was already too late. While others stood paralyzed, staring up at their ruin.
Resigned to it. The rock slide hit like the wrath of the moon gods, a shrieking, grinding avalanche that turned what remained of their pack destroyed. It wasn't just the southern exit. It continued onto the rest of the camp settlement too. Tents were flattened. Fires extinguished. Bodies flung like broken dolls.
I watched, holding my breath tight in my chest. This wasn't joy. It wasn’t even a victory. It was a massacre, paid in blood and screams.
When the dust settled, only silence remained. Only death… remained.
Adolph stepped forward, stunned. "That was..."
"Necessary," I said, as I moved to the foot of the hill of bodies buried by rock.
“Rest well, your nightmare is over now.”
I stared up at the moon, eyes filled with tears as I wondered about Casper and Ophelia… By now the Hunt must have begun.
×××
{Casper’s Pov}
It was dire. So Mom weighed the possibilities for a while and decided; “Options two and three pose the most risk to us, because we will be blamed either way. We shouldn’t risk it. That, and the fact that either option two or option three would fulfill the purpose of option one. I believe their course of action is clear…”
She was always so level-headed. I didn’t even think that far ahead. I wasn't sure whether or not to attribute that to years in age, or my brash nature.
“You must go,” she told me. “Stop them before they reach the Moonskin pack.”
Ophelia stepped forward, one hand on my shoulder. “He can’t go alone. I’ll join him, at least on that end we’ll have a better fighting chance.”
They talked a bit and it was decided. We nodded in agreement, and then I and Ophelia left my mom and the other members of the council.
I couldn't fail her. Not again. Not like this.
And that Aurelius… He would meet the remainder of my wrath.