Vardy and his group disappeared into the night.
Simon Wells, Dean's enforcer, was dead, and the balance of power in the city was beginning to shift.
But Vardy's injury was severe, and as they made their way back to the sanctuary, he stumbled, his strength fading.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," Ferah said, her tone edged with frustration.
"I don't have a choice," Vardy replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
The spectral wolf let out a low whine, its glowing form pressing closer to him.
"You can't keep doing this," Tracy said firmly. "We'll lose you before we even have a chance to fight Dean."
"We'll make it," Vardy said, though his own words sounded hollow.
He fell again, this time more terrifying.
"Luthor! Over here!" Ferah's voice came sharply.
Luthor turned, his face pale with worry, and hurried toward her.
Ferah knelt beside Vardy, who was slumped against the wall, his breathing uneven. His cloak was soaked with blood.
