Chapter 7 - Strike the Heart
The clearing crackled with tension.
Four Ixchele warriors clashed with the scouting team—silent, brutal, relentless. The six elite wolves who’d come on the mission held their ground, but only just. Blood stained the moss. Steel rang out. One wolf landed a strike to the gut—clean, deep—and the warrior didn’t even falter.
They didn’t know.
Didn’t know the truth Tlacaelel had whispered a breath ago.
Didn’t know to aim for the heart.
And Iztac?
He stepped forward like a prophecy fulfilled—sun and crescent symbols carved into his chest, obsidian blade glinting with memory. His face was a war mask. Painted. Ritual-marked.
Renata moved first.
Steel clashed again—her blade catching his across the middle, pushing back just enough to give her space to breathe. B
