Ashren urged the mare forward, her hooves pounding against the dirt road.

  Dusk had already melted into deep blue shadows, the last remnants of sunset fading behind the hills.

  The world was slipping into night.

  And he was racing straight into it.

  The wind cut across his face, cold and sharp.

  His knuckles whitened around the reins.

  “Elara… hold on.”

  The horse seemed to sense his desperation, running faster, breath steaming in the cooling air.

  A faint glow pulsed against his chest.

  Ashren looked down.

  The wardstone.

  Its soft blue heartbeat shimmered gently.

  Not warning him.

  Not breaking.

  Just sensing the weak night-creatures that lurked in the dark—

  and quietly making them turn away.

  Shapes shifted in the trees.

  Small silhouettes slithered along the roadside.

  Creatures with too many legs, too many eyes, or no shape at all.

  But none stepped onto the road.

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  None approached.

  Ashren didn’t dare slow down.

  Didn’t dare look back.

  Only forward.

  Toward the faint wheel tracks he could barely see.

  Toward the fading lantern-glow far in the distance.

  Toward Elara.

  The last rays of sunlight slipped behind the hills, leaving only a faint line of fire across the sky.

  Beyond that line—

  Ashren heard it.

  A sharp clang.

  A muffled shout.

  A grinding wheel.

  His pulse surged.

  “That’s them…!”

  He pushed the mare harder.

  She obeyed, snorting, muscles tightening as she flew down the road.

  Branches scraped past.

  Dust kicked up in swirling clouds behind them.

  The mechanical hum grew louder.

  Clearer.

  Closer.

  Ashren rounded a bend—

  And there, in the last sliver of fading daylight, he saw them.

  The full Night Hunter party.

  Ravenn at the front, mounted on a black armored horse.

  Two elite Hunters flanking him.

  Behind them, the rest of the unit that had waited outside Ardent—

  a half-dozen soldiers in dark gear,

  their mage cloaked in shimmering runes.

  Two gun-tankers rumbled beside the group, metal grinding as their wheels crushed branches and stone.

  Pipes hissed steam.

  Mounted rifles glinted in the dusk.

  Lanterns hung from the tankers, clanging with each bump, throwing harsh light across the road.

  And strapped across the rear platform of the lead tanker—

  Elara.

  Hands bound.

  Head slumped.

  Hair fluttering weakly in the wind.

  A gag tied across her mouth.

  Ashren’s breath shattered.

  He had found them.

  Rage and fear detonated in his chest—

  so fierce it nearly blinded him.

  He gripped the reins until his knuckles went white.

  “Hold on, Elara…”

  His whisper trembled, but his eyes turned to steel.

  “…I’m coming.”

  He leaned low on the mare—

  and charged into the night after them.

  To be continued…

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