Veyra could finally breathe…
At one point, she couldn't.
Her lungs had seized when a projectile split the storm, cutting through the air so fast it blurred out of sight.
It had whistled past Azel, past Medusa, and arrowed straight for her heart.
A javelin of pure ice.
She hadn't even registered the speed — only the blur and the deadly intent behind it.
By the time her brain screamed danger, it should have already ended her.
Instead, blood burst.
But it wasn't hers.
One of Medusa's spider legs had pierced into the ground, intercepting the strike in a violent clash of bone and frost.
The leg shattered, droplets of crimson splattering onto the snow.
The javelin fell uselessly, clattering at Veyra's feet.
Her breath hitched, knees threatening to buckle.
She had almost died.
"Keep your head in the game."
Azel's voice cut through her spiraling panic.
"This isn't going to be easy."
Veyra swallowed hard.
Her chest heaved as she stared at the spot of blood on the snow.
