The crackle of gunfire tore through the smoky haze as Zara pressed herself against a crumbling wall. Her pistol felt heavy in her hand, but she kept it steady, her eyes scanning the silhouettes moving through the chaos. The King’s hunters were disoriented but not retreating; their precision and discipline made them dangerous even in confusion.
“Stay focused,” Zara muttered to herself, taking a calming breath. She counted three distinct voices barking orders, but she couldn’t tell if the leader was still among them.
The faint sound of Rowan’s hurried steps fading toward the eastern ridge reassured her—he was making his escape. Now all she had to do was survive long enough to follow.
A shadow moved through the smoke, drawing closer. Zara raised her pistol, her finger hovering over the trigger. Just before she fired, a metallic clink sounded nearby. A grenade.