We can’t let them pinpoint us. We need an ambush or a diversion. My mind whirs. “We’ll descend another staircase, try to isolate one or two. I can handle them if we catch them off guard.”

Elyria nods firmly, though her eyes betray swirling fear.

I guide her along the rampart, ducking under broken arches, aiming for a far stairwell that likely leads down to the fortress’s eastern wing.

Our steps echo softly in the old stone. The chain is a liability, but she keeps it pressed to her chest to minimize noise.

We descend quickly, emerging in a long hall with collapsed columns. Dust motes swirl in the faint light. My wings brush a precarious beam overhead, sending a trickle of rubble down. We freeze, hearts pounding. A voice drifts from the far end—a dark elf cursing in their guttural tongue.

I motion for Elyria to hide behind a chunk of fallen masonry. My pulse roars in my ears. The footsteps approach. One elf? Possibly. I let out a careful breath. If it’s just one, I can strike fast. Danger thrums in me, but also a savage clarity. No turning back.

A slender figure emerges around the corner: a dark elf male, crossbow gripped in one hand, steps cautious.

He hasn’t seen us yet. I lock eyes with Elyria, silently telling her to stay put, then slip into the corridor’s shadows.

Every muscle is taut, each sense honed. I am executioner no longer—but I’ll kill to protect her.

The elf steps closer. His face is etched with tension, scanning the gloom.

Just as he passes my hiding spot, I lunge.

My claws slice across his throat before he can yelp.

Blood sprays, coating my hand. He collapses with a ragged gurgle.

My heart hammers, teeth bared. Old instincts swirl with revulsion. He was the enemy. I had no choice.

Elyria emerges, eyes wide at the sight of the corpse. She swallows hard, but doesn’t balk. “Are there more?”

I nod grimly. “Two elves and one gargoyle remain.” We can’t linger. Blood spreads across the floor, the stench thick. Another voice echoes from deeper in the ruin, cursing. They heard something.

I seize Elyria’s hand, pulling her along.

We hurry around a corner, seeking a vantage that might let us see the courtyard again.

Each step is a calculated risk. Tension coils in my gut.

If the gargoyle or the other elves discover the body, they’ll know we’re here for sure.

No more stealth. My mind flicks to my vow: If forced, I’ll fight them all.

At the next intersection, we skid to a halt behind a fractured wall that overlooks an open area—a portion of the courtyard with a collapsed roof.

The gargoyle stands there, scanning, wings half-spread.

A dark elf stands to his left. The other elf is nowhere in sight.

Possibly searching the southwestern corner.

My chest tightens. If we can isolate the gargoyle from the elf, I might stand a chance in single combat.

But if I have to face them both at once, it’s riskier.

As we watch, the gargoyle frowns, looking down at the ground, perhaps he’s found footprints or a smear of blood from the first elf.

He growls something. The elf nods, raising his crossbow.

They move with coordinated caution, stepping into the corridor we just left.

They’re heading for the body. My heart leaps. We’re pinned if they come this way.

Elyria tugs my arm, pointing silently toward a battered staircase that might lead back up or around.

We nod at each other, adrenaline spiking.

We slip that direction, trying to circle behind them.

The chain rattles once, making me wince.

If the gargoyle hears that, we’re done for.

My wings brush the air in an effort to keep silent.

Another corridor leads around the courtyard’s perimeter, a route that might let us flank them.

We move swiftly, the fortress’s labyrinthine passages half-collapsed, forcing us to climb over debris.

My heart pounds at the knowledge that we’re actively hunting now— I’m hunting them.

Elyria’s breathing grows ragged, but she stays close, silent and determined.

A fierce admiration sparks in me for her courage.

Rounding a final corner, we spot them, the gargoyle and the elf, bent over the corpse of their comrade.

The elf curses in dismay, the gargoyle stands rigid, eyes blazing.

I can almost smell the fury roiling off him.

He barks an order at the elf, likely telling him to search the perimeter.

The elf sets off, crossbow at the ready.

The gargoyle remains behind, crouched over the body. My chest tightens. Now or never. If we let them regroup or call the third elf, we’ll be outnumbered. I turn to Elyria, pressing a finger to my lips. She nods, stepping back into a shadow. I swallow, summoning the lethal calm that once defined me.

One more kill. But this time, it’s not for the clan or the Alpha. It’s to protect the woman who upended my world.

Stepping from the shadows, I let out a low hiss. The gargoyle whips around, eyes flaring gold. Recognition jolts across his features. “Korrin?” he snarls, voice echoing in the ruined hall. His wings flare wide, immediate suspicion in every line of his body. “You— what are you doing here?”

I see the clan mark on his bracer, confirm he’s one of ours. My heart twists with an old, almost-forgotten loyalty. But I swallow it down. “Lower your voice,” I growl, stepping closer. “Or I’ll finish what you came here for.”

He sneers. “Traitor,” he spits, eyes darting around. “You vanish, the Alpha sends us to find you, and now I see you killed an elf we were allied with. Are you insane?”

Cold dread surges. The clan allied with dark elves? They truly are working together to hunt me. “Those elves are scum,” I say, voice dripping with disgust. “You’d join them to kill innocents?”

He laughs, wings rustling. “There’s no innocent in a High Purna or a rogue gargoyle. The Alpha’s orders are clear: bring you back in chains, and kill the purna if you’ve found her.” His gaze roams the corridor, searching for a hint of Elyria. A snarl builds in my throat.

“I won’t let that happen,” I say flatly, shifting into a fighting stance. My wings spread for balance, tail lashing behind me. The old battle-lust thrums in my veins, but it’s tinted with righteous anger instead of blind obedience. “Leave now.”

He bares his fangs in a vicious grin. “Or what? You’ll kill me too?” A humorless laugh echoes. “You can’t hide your betrayal, Korrin. The Alpha will flay you alive for this.”

My chest constricts with both fear and fury.

“Then so be it,” I snap. With a single powerful leap, I strike.

He’s ready, blocking me with a swipe of his claws that rakes my forearm.

Pain flares, but I bare my teeth, ignoring the sting.

We slam together in a tangle of wings and muscle, each trying to gain advantage.

He’s strong, comparable to me in raw might, maybe a shade less experienced as an executioner.

The corridor walls ring with the impact of our blows.

I grapple him, hooking my tail around his leg, forcing him off-balance.

He tries to slice my side, but my hide deflects most of it.

The old instincts flood me: Find an opening, strike fast.

Our wings clash, scraping stone. He roars, half-trying to subdue me alive. Perhaps he thinks he can drag me back to the Alpha. But I know the only outcome is lethal. I can’t risk him calling the others. I lash out with a brutal punch, my claws raking across his chest. He staggers, hissing in pain.

“Stop this,” he growls, eyes wild. “You’re throwing your life away for a worthless human.”

My anger ignites to a white-hot fury. “She’s not worthless,” I snarl.

“She’s more than you’ll ever be.” Summoning all my strength, I slam him into a fractured column, hearing the crack of stone.

He slumps, momentarily dazed. Before he can recover, I lunge, sinking my claws into his ribcage.

Blood spurts, hot and sticky. My stomach twists, but I don’t hesitate. If he lives, he’ll betray us.

He gasps, eyes wide with shock. “Tra… i… tor…” The word sputters in a gargle of blood. Then he collapses, wings folding like a broken bird. A wave of nauseating guilt hits me. I just killed one of my own. But I had no choice. Elyria’s life demands it.

“Korrin!” Elyria’s voice echoes from behind me. She emerges from the shadows, chain in hand, face etched with equal parts horror and relief. She sees the gargoyle’s body, the gore around my claws. Her lips part, trembling. “You… you did it.”

I stand there, chest heaving, blood dripping from my fingers. The clan mark on his bracer glints ominously, reminding me of the oath I’ve just shattered beyond repair. “He would have taken you,” I say, voice raw, “or alerted the entire clan. I— I couldn’t let that happen.”

Her throat works, eyes glistening. “I know. You saved me.” She steps closer, swallowing hard.

The acrid smell of gargoyle blood hangs in the air, a savage testament to my final break from the Alpha’s rule.

My insides churn, but when Elyria reaches for me, I let out a shuddering breath and take her hand.

“We should find the others,” I rasp, shaking off the fugue that tries to claim me. “There’s still one elf—maybe two—lurking around.”

She nods, knuckles white around the chain. “Let’s… let’s end this.” Her voice shakes, but determination fuels her. We can’t leave them free to hunt us down.

Before we can advance, footsteps echo from a hallway to our right. We spin, tension coiling. The final dark elf emerges, crossbow raised. He spots the gargoyle’s corpse, the pool of blood, then me with my claws still stained. His eyes flare in shock. “You… you killed him?”