Stephan blurred forward, a streak of crimson and writhing shadow trailing in his wake. He intercepted Anna Mary mid-flight, his arms locking around her just before her body could smash into the jagged stone wall.
The impact drove him backward in a grinding skid, boots tearing shallow grooves into the ground under her weight. He steadied her, feeling the sharp hitch in her breath and the wet warmth of blood against his side.
Then his gaze lifted.
At the far end of the street stood the one responsible, an Orc unlike anything Stephan had seen. Skin the color of frozen steel stretched over corded muscle, every inch marked with ancient, spiraling scars. Massive, forward-sweeping horns framed a face carved from brutality itself, red eyes burning beneath a heavy brow. Blackened steel swords hung casually in its grip, their rune-etched blades exhaling a faint, almost hungry whisper.
