Marcus's Point of View

Blood was the stench of the night. I can feel it in the ground beneath my feet as much as in the air. It clung to the burned corpses of dead warriors, saturated the dirt, and blended with the bitter smell of burning wood from the hours-long struggle.

The battle was far from done, though. Not quite yet.

I stood in the center of the meadow, my breath steady despite the tiredness pressing against my ribs. My pack stood its ground around me, creating a protective circle, their gazes fixed on the lone human emerging from the darkness. I was momentarily disbelieving of what I was...