Aiden's breaths came in shallow gasps, each one scraping against his ribs like broken glass.
The blood on his hands had already dried, but the cuts stung like fresh ones. Emmeranne stood in front of him, shielding him with her body, her violet barrier shimmering weakly around them. Her arms were shaking more than they had earlier. Her face was pale. Every part of her looked moments away from collapse, but she still refused to let him take the next hit.
She was protecting him.
The cloaked figures stood in unnerving silence as they circled Aiden and Emmeranne, unmoving but far too close, like wolves that had studied their prey long enough to know when it would break. The air was thick with something unnatural.
Time didn't feel real anymore.
Then there came a laugh.
Lopt's laugh.
It rang out from above, loud and spiraling, mad and theatrical.
Emmeranne's head snapped upward.
