Lily stood motionless as the helicopter disappeared into the grey sky, its rotors fading to a distant thrum. Through the window, she had seen it—that smile. That same terrible, hungry smile that had watched Theo die. That had eaten pieces of him while Lily stood frozen.
Her fists clenched so tight her nails drew blood.
Tusk nudged her side, a low rumble of concern in his chest. Lily didn't move for a long moment. Then, slowly, she forced her hands to open. Forced herself to breathe.
She turned away from the sky and walked to the Rotting King.
The massive undead creature lay on its side, the missile wound in its flank already closing—slower than it should, the damage severe, but healing. Its milky eyes tracked her approach, and a low sound escaped its throat—not a growl, but something almost like... comfort?
King lowered its massive head to her level.
Lily reached out and touched its rotting snout, her small hand pale against its decayed flesh. "Don't worry, King," she said softly. "You did good. She just got lucky."
The creature's tail thumped once against the ground.
Behind her, the Forgotten Sentinel and the Deep Lurker emerged from the trees, their massive forms silhouetted against the fading light. They moved to flank her, a living fortress of scales and armor and ancient rage.
Lily looked at them—her pack. Her family. The only ones who understood.
Eleven years.
Seventy-nine years in the dark.
Nine years of pain.
Ten years of light before it all ended.
She had waited long enough.
"Come on," she said, climbing onto Tusk's back. "We're not done yet."
---
Eleven Years Ago
The forest was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that meant something was wrong.
Zoey moved through the trees with practiced silence, her enhanced senses reaching out, searching. She'd woken to find Wolfen gone—not unusual, he often wandered—but something had pulled her after him. An instinct. A dread.
She found him sitting against a tree, alone in a small clearing.
In his hand, an Umbralite knife had already formed. He pressed it to his wrist.
Zoey didn't think.
Her foot connected with the side of his head in a kick that sent him sprawling. The knife flew from his grasp, skittering across the forest floor. She grabbed it before he could recover, crushing it in her fist, letting the Umbralite dissolve into nothing.
Wolfen scrambled up, fury flashing in his golden eyes. "You piece of—"
Then he saw her face.
The fury died. Something else took its place. Something that looked almost like fear.
"Oh," he said, his voice suddenly small. "Hey, Zoey. What are you... what are you doing here?"
Zoey's expression didn't change. "What are you doing?"
"I was just—testing—seeing if my healing still works—" The words tumbled out, too fast, too practiced.
"Let me help you with that."
Wolfen's eyes widened. "Oh no, there's no need, really, I'm fine, totally fine, just—"
Zoey grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back to the tree. She sat down on one side, facing away, her back against the trunk.
After a long moment, Wolfen slumped down on the other side.
They sat in silence.
The forest breathed around them. Birds called. Wind moved through the leaves. Normal sounds, in a world that had forgotten what normal meant.
"You want to say something?" Zoey's voice was quiet, not accusing. "I won't judge."
Wolfen laughed—a hollow, broken sound. "Nah. It's nothing."
They sat for a while longer.
Behind them, in the camp, Eva woke with a gasp.
"Lily?" Her voice was sharp, panicked. She looked around the clearing, at the sleeping forms, at the empty space where her sister should have been. "LILY!"
The others stirred. Maya sat up, blinking. Jordan was on his feet instantly, his katana in hand. Derek rubbed his eyes, confused. Leo grabbed his weapon.
"Lily's gone," Eva said, her voice cracking. "She's gone."
They spread out, searching, calling her name. But the forest had already swallowed her trail.
And on the other side of the tree, Wolfen and Zoey sat in silence, each carrying their own weight, each wondering if they'd ever be able to put it down.