The air was thick with the stench of something ancient—something wrong.
The two Silver Ridge spies were frozen, their eyes wide as the ground beneath them seemed to pulse with dark energy. The screech that had ripped through the forest was still ringing in their ears. It wasn’t just an animal's cry. It was a sound born of nightmares, a sound that seemed to tear at the very fabric of the world.
The first spy, a lean male with short, dark hair, gripped the hilt of his dagger. His breath was ragged. “What the hell was that?” His voice trembled, barely above a whisper.
The second spy, a taller woman with long braided hair, shifted nervously, her hand brushing over her own weapon. But her eyes weren’t on the trees or the ground—they were scanning the skies above, watching for movement. The w
