Enemy

ShiVak's words tore through Aelorin's countenance like jagged blades, each syllable sharper than the last. The people who went after his sister—they were here? His pulse quickened, a chaotic drumbeat of rage and despair.

"Is she serious? Are they after me? Why did they come here in the first place?"

The questions battered his mind, each one feeding the boiling anger in his chest. His hands curled into trembling fists as his breathing grew ragged. The memories of his sister's suffering, the pleading in her eyes, the scars left behind—they were unbearable.

"Where are they?" Aelorin demanded, his voice a low, feral growl. His fury refused to waver, even as ShiVak smirked, fully aware of the boy's resolve. Klaine stood silently to the side, her sharp gaze fixed on him, reading every twitch of his face, every flare of his nostrils.