**the villagers attacked**

Eliana pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she stepped into the dimly lit main chamber of Edgar's home. The scent of burning wood filled the air, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. Despite the warmth, a cold dread had settled deep in her bones. 

She had known peace wouldn't last. 

Edgar stood near the table, his thick arms crossed over his chest, his weathered face lined with worry. He was a strong man, hardened by years of leadership, but today, he looked burdened. Beside him, Amelia shifted uneasily, her hands clasped together. 

"Eliana," Edgar said, relief flickering in his eyes when he saw her. "I'm sorry to wake you, but this couldn't wait." 

Kieran and Caelan followed closely behind her. Kieran moved with his usual quiet control, his silver eyes scanning the room with unreadable intensity. Caelan, in contrast, was tense, his sharp gaze flickering between Edgar and Amelia. 

Eliana's chest tightened. 

They had come to this village seeking shelter, hoping for a moment of respite from the relentless pursuit of the government, the secret organization, and the supernatural forces hunting her. Edgar had welcomed them without hesitation, offering them safety because of what she had done for the village. 

Now, that safety was being threatened. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice steady despite the unease curling in her stomach. 

Edgar exhaled slowly. "There was an attack last night. A village on the outskirts—gone." 

Eliana's breath caught. "Gone?" 

Edgar nodded grimly. "Burned to the ground." 

The room fell into heavy silence. 

Eliana's heart pounded as she took a step closer. "Were there any survivors?" 

"A few," Edgar said. "They're wounded, shaken. But that's not the worst of it." 

A muscle ticked in Kieran's jaw. "Go on." 

Edgar's expression darkened. "The survivors claim it wasn't soldiers or bandits who did this. They say it was *a wolf*." 

The words sent a chill down Eliana's spine. 

Not a regular wolf. Not even an ordinary shifter. 

Something worse. 

She felt Kieran go still beside her. Caelan inhaled sharply. 

Eliana forced herself to speak. "A wolf? Are they sure?" 

Edgar hesitated, then nodded. "They called it a *beast*. Something unnatural." 

Eliana's stomach churned. She could feel the tension radiating from Kieran, but his expression remained unreadable, his silver eyes betraying nothing. 

"And what do the villagers think?" she asked carefully. 

Edgar exhaled. "They're afraid." He hesitated before adding, "Some think the danger is closer than we realize." 

Silence. 

Then Kieran chuckled. The sound was low, dark, and utterly devoid of humor. 

"And by that, you mean *us*," he said, tilting his head. 

Edgar didn't flinch. "Not all of them, but some are wary. They know you're not ordinary travelers." His gaze softened as it shifted back to Eliana. "But they trust *you*, Eliana. You saved them once. If you tell them there's nothing to fear, they'll listen." 

Eliana's throat tightened. 

She had spent so long running, hiding, fighting. The villagers had taken them in, given them a chance to breathe. And now, it seemed that peace was already slipping away. 

"We should see the survivors," she said firmly. "Talk to them ourselves." 

Edgar nodded. "I was hoping you'd say that." 

Eliana turned to Kieran and Caelan. They didn't need to speak. She saw the agreement in their eyes. 

Because whatever had done this—whoever had left that village in ruins—was a threat. 

And it was coming for them next.