No one cheers, and no one advances recklessly, because the message has been delivered without hysteria.
The vampires do not charge.
They do not retaliate.
They retreat.
Not in panic, and not in defeat, but in measured coordinated withdrawal that signals recalibration rather than loss, and their line along the ridge pulls farther out while maintaining formation and discipline.
The clearing empties gradually.
Silence settles again.
Atticus lowers the hostage carefully once inside the interior line, and healers rush forward to assess and secure him, and the boy is shaken but alive and intact.
Axel turns toward me slowly, and his expression carries weight rather than anger.
“You projected beyond the packhouse,” he says quietly.
“Yes,” I reply.
Atticus joins us, and his gaze searches
