Three nights later, the hunters come again.
This time they don't try tunnels or feints. This time they come with everything — a coordinated assault across all four perimeters simultaneously, the kind of operation that requires months of planning and a detailed map of the compound's defensive gaps.
A map someone gave them.
The raid hits at two in the morning during a storm that kills the perimeter lighting and turns the compound grounds into a gray mess of rain and shadow. I wake up to the bond igniting like a struck match and Damon's heartbeat going from steady to emergency in the space of one second.
By the time I reach the east wall, three sentinels are down.
Not dead — I check, because the world goes cold when I think they might be — but incapacitated. Silver-laced nets, the kind t
