Madriod’s POV

The air was thick with dread. Nyla lay on the ground, motionless, her chest rising and falling shallowly. The clock on the wall read 3:12 a.m. We had been waiting for hours, and panic clawed at my throat like a beast.

When she finally stirred, her eyes fluttering open, Rowan rushed to her side. “Nyla! You’re awake—”

Before she could finish, Nyla slapped her. The sound was sharp, brutal, and shocking.

Rowan stumbled back, her hand on her cheek, her expression a mix of disbelief and anger. “What was that for?” she hissed.

Nyla sat up slowly, her face pale and haunted. “For dragging me into this mess!”...