Serenity's POV
The first strike lands before I can even blink. Metal scrapes against metal, and a roar tears through the hall so violently I feel it in my chest. I crouch lower behind Darian, instinctively pressing myself against the solid wall of his back, letting his presence anchor me. Teeth and claws tear through the air, a blur of movement, and the guards—human and wolf-shifted—collide with his pack in a storm of raw power. The sound is deafening: growls, grunts, the harsh clash of bodies, and the sickening thump of someone hitting the floor. My stomach twists at the violence, the sudden reality of how fragile the order of this place is.
The smell hits me next—iron and sweat, hot and sharp, mixed with the faint acrid scent of fear. Every inhale feels heavy, like drawing in pieces of
