Selina’s POV
"Get through, Elias! Take Isolde and run!" I yelled over the deafening clang of the alarm bell.
My brother didn't argue. He pulled the last human child through the threshold, his pale face smeared with soot as he hauled Isolde out into the biting moor gale. The moment their boots cleared the granite threshold, Finn and I threw our combined weight against the massive oak doors.
The twenty-foot gates fought us, caught by the fierce suction of the mountain wind. From the weavers' alley, the first wave of Glass-Trackers erupted into the square, a dozen amethyst silhouettes moving with terrifying speed, their silver pikes lowered to spear us against the wood.
"Push!" Finn roared, his jaw straining as the grey scars on his neck flared under the exertion.
I didn't rely on muscle
