Grey pounded his fists against the tendrils, but it was useless. The more he struggled, the tighter they constricted. The monster drove one of its vines toward Grey, its sharpened tip aimed straight for his heart. Frozen in fear, Grey stared at it. The creature was fueled by nothing but pure, ravenous hunger.
Suddenly, a flash of golden light cut through the vine, slicing it clean. The grip around Grey slackened. It was Amara. Grey felt himself falling, the heavy wind stinging his face as he plummeted toward the ground—until another force caught him midair, steadying him.
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw.
"Amara big-sis!" he gasped.
"Grey, you have to get out of here," Amara said firmly.
"But what about you?" he cried.
"I have to stop that monster before it causes any more damage."
"But—!"
"Don't worry," she interrupted with a soft smile. "I'll be alright."
"Hound, take care of Grey!" she ordered without looking back.
