Page 221 of The Moonborn's Curse

She would burn this place from the inside out.

Chapter 85

Seren

Seren crawled through the cramped tunnel, her heart hammering against her ribs with each painful shuffle. Dirt and small stones scraped against her palms, embedding grit under her fingernails. With one final grunt, she emerged into the sparse edge of the forest bordering the township, blinking rapidly as she adjusted to the moonlit clearing.

"Took you long enough," Ana said, leaning forward with amused curiosity as she peered into the dark hole Seren had just exited.

Ryn lounged lazily in the branches above, casually picking her teeth with the edge of her knife. Spotting Seren, she gracefully hopped down, landing softly on the balls of her feet. "Let's get going. We're missing all the fun."

They started off at a swift pace, Ana immediately complaining about her butter-soft leather boots. "I specifically ordered these boots because I knew I'd run into Veyr tonight," she groaned, lifting a foot mournfully. "Look at them—already muddy."

Seren, distracted, glanced over at her companions. "How did you even manage to get in?"

Ryn and Ana exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous glint passing between them.

"Well," Ryn drawled, tossing her knife casually into the air and catching it effortlessly. "Ana here—her dad's a minor god, as it happens. She inherited a particular... gift of compulsion."

Ana grinned wickedly. "I might've compelled the border guard to invite us in. He's currently trussed up like a turkey—definitely not the bondage he was hoping for."

Seren had known this would happen long before returning to Vargrheim. She had willingly come back; fully aware she would fall into the evil one's hands before the war could end. Her friends had known too, all of them bound by that shared, grim knowledge. Quickly, she filled them in on what she'd learned about Lilja and the demon, about the long game and the dangers that loomed ahead.

Ana wrinkled her nose. "Demon sex isn't all it's cracked up to be, I've heard."

Ryn turned worried eyes to her, impatience sharpening their intensity. "Seren, the battle has already started. We need to hurry to the caves—Threk, that idiot, has no sense of self-preservation."

A spike of fear gripped Seren's heart. Her thoughts flashed to Hagan, anxiety quickening her steps. She nodded briskly before it clicked.

Her body went rigid as the pieces fell in place. "We have to go back. Now."

"Lilja—and the demon. We need to end them," Seren insisted urgently. "Vargrheim must be under attack. That demon controls theRevenants—Lilja wouldn't risk herself or her demon. They must still be here, hiding like the vermin they are."

Ryn nodded gravely, her eyes glinting fiercely. "Then let's hunt."

They turned swiftly back towards the township, slipping quietly through the shadows. A lone guard stepped into their path, startled by their sudden appearance. Before he could cry out, Ana stepped forward, her voice soft yet impossibly commanding. "Look away. You haven't seen us."

His eyes glazed over, obediently staring blankly into the distance as the trio hurried past.

With every step, Seren felt echoes of agony tugging her forward, pulling her inexorably toward the longhouse at the town's centre. Her heart raced painfully as they reached the entrance, the air heavy with malevolence.

Pushing the door ajar, Seren's breath caught painfully in her throat at the horrifying tableau before her. The demon loomed, grotesquely hunched over a small, lifeless body. Tendrils of silvery life force seeped from the child's mouth, drifting lazily into the demon's parted lips. It rolled its head back in sickening pleasure, drunk on the stolen innocence.

Across the room, Lilja lounged casually by the roaring fireplace, swirling a glass of wine as though at a pleasant gathering. Her gaze flickered lazily toward Seren, a mocking smile spreading slowly across her lips.

"Well," Lilja purred, taking a leisurely sip, her eyes glinting with dark amusement. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise?"

Hagan

Across the battleground, the wolves fought valiantly against the relentless tide of Revenants. Hagan and Veyr moved as one, their blades weaving a deadly pattern, cutting through the enemy with brutal efficiency. Beside them, Threk roared in fury, his massive form tearing through the ranks, oblivious to injury or exhaustion.

Vir and Astrid fought back-to-back, seamlessly guarding each other's blind spots. Their swift movements were precise and coordinated, each strike aimed with lethal intent. Nearby, Garrik shouted commands, rallying the wolves to maintain formation as they struggled against the overwhelming numbers. Jorik, still healing from his injuries, buried his axe in the skull of an attacker with half a face.

The Revenants surged forward endlessly, unfazed by pain or fear, their eyes vacant, driven only by dark purpose. Each fallen enemy seemed to be instantly replaced by two more, a seemingly endless wave crashing against the defenders.

Yet, despite the overwhelming odds, the wolves held firm, their resolve unyielding, driven by determination and a fierce protectiveness that refused to waver.

Hagan plunged his spear into yet another attacker, exhaustion weighing heavily on his limbs. Pulling the weapon free, he glanced around, seeing only an endless sea of foes. Despair edged into his heart; the fight appeared hopeless. His mind flashed to their vulnerable ones hidden deep in the tunnels, their safety hanging by a fragile thread. But there was no time for doubt—only action. "What is going to happen now?" he wondered grimly, bracing himself as he leapt back into the fray.

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