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Another winged woman stood behind him, her bottom lip quivering as she lowered her sword.

He drew back his sword to strike.

She screamed into his skull and took to the air to retreat.

More shadows flooded the sky. Dark wings flapped against the wind. Two dozen more like the first. All armed and furious.

“Who the hell are they? What are they?” Lana asked, the rhetorical question echoing across the valley.

Wyverns wobbled and collapsed from their injuries. The new creatures swarmed.

Not creatures. People.

Vann braced his sword tight in his grip and assessed his new quarry.

All in sleeveless tops—where their wings protruded from behind their shoulders. Wings with subtle variations in size and color.

A pale blond with a simple shortsword hung back. The blade was awkward in her grip, as if she’d never lifted such a weapon before.

Another shared a look with her. Shared in her hesitation. With dark curls in a ponytail, in leggings and tall boots, the second grasped at her daggers and braced for a fight—but her gaze darted around.

Not somber, but furiously snarling and stomping to fight, she released a piercing screech.

What wyverns remained snapped to attention.

The clearing erupted. The winged women dove fully into the fight, the wyverns shaking off their injuries and following the order.

Chaos. Blood everywhere. Feathery wings disturbing the air, blocking his vision.

The fight was no longer about revenge or territory, but… fucking misdirection.

The team rallied and pushed back, but wyverns and winged women risked their lives without caution to separate them.

Daggers thrown wildly like buckshot into their formation.

Wings flapping in front of faces. When one fell, another took her place.

A blade embedded in his side, and sliced until his vest dropped. Blood poured from the long wound.

Vann turned, ready to attack the new threat.

A knife plunged into his abdomen.

Too weak to look up, breath bloody as he coughed, he dropped to his knees.

As he ripped out the knife, a blade slashed across his back.

Pain spliced into his side.

A dagger embedded in his abdomen.

Darkness smoked over his vision. Vann collapsed to the ground.

Metal sparked as blades slashed all around him. Scream after scream forced the hunters to cover their ears or scream back to counter the mind-splitting sound.

Isolating Vann. Focusing their strongest attacks on Vann. Their chaos to distract the others.

Nausea spiked, blood rose in his throat, bright red blood pouring from his mouth.