KELLY THOMPSON'S POV
The Faes' shrieks dwindled into a haunting silence, the quiet before the storm. We stood, hearts thudding in our chests, ready to meet their next onslaught. I gripped the hilt of my sword, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat of my blood pulsing with pre-battle adrenaline.
"Stay alert," I whispered to my pack, my voice steady despite the chaos that awaited us. A shiver ran down my spine as I sensed their presence before I saw them—a dark wave of malevolence crashing towards us.
Then they came, emerging from the shadows like nightmares given form. The Black Faes, with their shifting forms and glowing eyes, descended upon us with a ferocity that would have frozen a weaker will. But we were not weak; we were the last line of defense, forged in the fires of unity, and we met their charge head-on.