The night air was thick with the smell of blood and smoke as the rogues approached Moonveil. Their eyes gleamed with hunger, and their movements were stealthy, like shadows creeping through the trees. The village was disturbingly quiet—too quiet.
And then, the rogues attacked.
With a terrifying howl, they broke through the outer defenses, a huge crack formed on the wall giving way for the rogues to get in .
The wooden barricades splintered easily under their claws, and the first Moonveil warrior didn't have time to react before a rogue lunged at him, sinking its teeth into his shoulder and dragging him to the ground.
The battle erupted in chaos.
Warriors fought with everything they had—swords clashed, claws slashed, and fangs tore through flesh. The air was filled with the screams of the dying and the snarls of the fighters. The Moonveil warriors fought fiercely, but the rogues were relentless. One warrior swung his blade and managed to cut through a rogue's shoulder, but another rogue knocked him to the ground before he could strike again. Another warrior barely managed to dodge a rogue's jaws, rolling away just in time to stab it with a dagger.
The battlefield was a blur of movement—everyone was fighting for their lives. Blood spilled, fur flew, and the ground was soaked in it. But despite their best efforts, the Moonveil warriors were slowly being overwhelmed. They fought hard, but they couldn't hold the line forever.
Aldric, in his massive wolf form, charged through the chaos. He wasn't wasting any time. Liora was unconscious, and she couldn't protect herself. He had to get her out of there.
With a powerful leap, Aldric sprinted, his claws digging into the earth as he moved swiftly. Liora's limp body lay across his back, her breathing shallow but steady. He had to get them to safety.
"Hold on, Liora," he muttered under his breath as he pushed forward, his heart racing.
Behind him, the rest of the pack followed. They ran as fast as they could, desperate to escape the fighting. But even as they fled, they knew the rogues wouldn't stop. The rogues would come after them. They would never stop hunting Liora.
As they reached the edge of the forest, Aldric looked back. His stomach sank. The warriors were falling. One by one, the rogues were overpowering them. The Moonveil warriors had fought bravely, but they were exhausted. Their strength was fading.
And then the rogues realized it. The warriors were all that was left. The pack was gone.
The rogue leader let out a low, menacing growl. He turned his attention from the battle to the village itself. The fight was over. What he wanted was still inside.
With a fierce howl, the rogues abandoned the battle and turned toward the village. They attacked with savage glee, ripping through the houses and buildings. Fires spread quickly as they destroyed everything in their path. The scent of destruction filled the air.
One rogue stormed into Liora's quarters, sniffing the air for any sign of her. The room, once peaceful and safe, was now a wreck. He found nothing. No sign of the Omega.
A frustrated growl escaped the rogue's throat. Liora was gone.
But then, something caught his attention—a faint trail.
The rogue leader's eyes gleamed with determination. He howled to his pack, signaling them to follow the scent. They would not stop until they found her.
The rogues bolted into the dense wilderness, chasing after the trail that led them deeper into the forest. Liora was out there somewhere, and they wouldn't stop until they had her.
—--------
Aldric's pulse pounded as he trudged deeper into the forest, the weight of Liora on his back, her unconscious form an unsettling reminder of the peril they faced. The surviving Moonveil wolves followed closely, each one tense and alert. Then, a change in the air—a subtle shift in the very atmosphere—stopped him dead in his tracks.
The rogues had found them.
A guttural, spine-chilling howl echoed through the trees, and before he could react, dark shapes surged from the shadows. Their eyes glowed a fiery red, casting an eerie light on their monstrous forms. The forest around them seemed to tremble, as if the trees themselves recoiled at the creatures' presence.
Panic surged within him, a primal instinct to protect those under his care driving his every movement. But where was Sera?
The rogues were glaring at them with tongues out , as if it already tasted their blood.
With a swift move , it lunged at them…..
Their bloods became stiff, dread filled their face , their bodies cold in fright , awaiting their death.