Henry's camp was quiet.
He stood alone near the edge of the lake, the moon's reflection shimmering across the water like the shattered pieces of a future he could no longer hold.
His thoughts were heavy. His chest, heavier.
Too many had left. Too many had chosen her. Not him.
"What am I going to do?" he whispered. "This doesn't looking good for us . . ."
And in that moment of stillness, the betrayal struck.
An arrow hissed past his face, grazing his cheek.
Then—
Chaos.
Figures rushed from the trees—wolves in human and beast form, their eyes gleaming with desperation.
Henry dodged the next blow, barely. His sword was half-drawn when three blades met it. He fell backward, rolled, came up bleeding.
"Talia sends her regards," one of them sneered.
But Henry only snarled. "Traitors!"
"You're the traitor," said another, raising a serrated blade. "How dare you defy the moon goddess's will!"
