They came out of the dark in formation, too disciplined to be anything but soldiers, boots striking the earth in a rhythm that made the ground itself seem to hum beneath Elena's feet. Rohan pulled her back toward the house without a word, positioning his own body between her and the tree line, and Elena allowed him, her heart slamming so hard against her ribs it was difficult to hear anything else. Somewhere behind them, she was aware of Renata's labored breathing through the open door and of the healer's steady presence at her shoulder, small comforts against the size of what was walking toward them out of the dark.
Cynthia's father had gone rigid beside the doorframe, one hand pressed flat against the old wood like it might somehow hold the whole structure together through sheer will.
