The attack outside beca worse after the first baby’s cry.
At first, the defenders had managed to hold the enemies near the outer wall because Kian had already changed the patrol routes earlier. The watch fires had been kept high. The western path had not been left empty. The guards had been warned to watch the snow because Isabella had already guessed that sothing could happen when the weather beca thick enough to hide movent.
Because of that, the first wave of attackers did not get the easy opening they had expected.
They ca through the falling snow with furs pulled over their heads, weapons wrapped in dark cloth, and beast forms moving low against the ground. So were wolves. So were bears. So were strange mixed beastn from villages that had clearly been gathered together for this one night. Their plan had probably been to reach the inner wall before anyone noticed. But the mont they stepped into the wrong path, the hidden guards blew the horn.
That horn saved many lives.
Still, being prepared did not an the battle was easy.
There were too many of them.
The winter had already weakened the village in a quiet way. So males were at the outer food stores. So were guarding the frozen paths. So were too far on patrol to return at once. So of the strongest fighters had been sent to protect the won, cubs, and old people near the inner shelters because Kian refused to leave the weakest part of the village open. So the ones at the front had to hold the line with fewer bodies than they would have had in warm seasons.
The snow under their feet was already turning dark.
Kian stood at the front, his white hair whipping around his face as he swung his stone blade through the side of an enemy beastman. Blood splashed across his bare chest and the fur wrapped around his waist, but his blue eyes did not blink. His body moved fast and hard, and every ti an enemy tried to push past him toward the inner path, he stepped in front of them like a wall that had teeth.
"Do not let them reach the palace!" Kian shouted.
His voice carried over the wind.
The guards around him answered with roars.
Asael was fighting near his right side. His weapon was already stained red, and one side of his arm had been cut open, but he did not slow down. He kept watching the gaps around Kian because even though Kian was the strongest one there, a king fighting at the front always beca the main target. The enemies could see it too. They knew that if Kian fell, the whole defense would shake.
That was why they kept aiming for him.
Osiris was farther to the left, surrounded by fire.
He could not transform yet, and that made him angrier than anything else. His body rembered what he should be. His blood rembered wings, fla, and the sky. But the brand on his back still held him like a chain, and now it was burning so badly that every breath felt like hot iron pressed against his bones.
Still, Osiris fought.
If he could not fly, he would burn.
A bear beastman rushed at him with a roar, snow flying under his huge paws. Osiris turned his head, his fiery blond hair glowing under the firelight, and lifted one hand. Flas burst from his palm and swallowed the bear’s face before it could reach him. The beastman scread, fell, and rolled in the snow, but Osiris had already turned to the next enemy.
His eyes were terrifying.
The brand on his back pulsed again.
Pain shot through him so sharply that his knees almost bent.
For one second, he saw an altar.
He saw shadows standing around it.
He heard a voice calling him ho again.
Co ho.
Complete the sacrifice.
Osiris’s teeth clenched so hard that blood filled his mouth. "Shut up."
He slamd both hands forward, and fire tore across the snow, pushing back three attackers at once. The heat lted the white ground around him and turned it into wet black mud.
He did not care.
He could feel the enemies trying to push toward the main village.
Toward the palace.
Toward Isabella.
That thought alone made his fire flare higher.
The enemies knew where they wanted to go. They were not attacking blindly. They kept splitting and trying to break toward the inner road, and every ti the defenders blocked one side, another group rushed from the other. It was like they had been told exactly where to aim.
Kian noticed it too.
His face grew colder.
"They are not here for the stores," Asael said through clenched teeth as he drove his weapon into an enemy’s thigh and kicked him down.
Kian’s gaze moved toward the palace rising behind the inner wall. The stone building stood under falling snow, warm light glowing faintly from high openings. Isabella was in there. His hand tightened around his blade.
"They are here for her," Kian said.
The words had barely left his mouth when a leopard beastman launched himself from the side, moving too fast through the snow. Kian turned, but another enemy rushed in at the sa ti. He blocked the first attack and tore through the second man’s shoulder, but the leopard’s claws still found his stomach.
The claws ripped deep.
Kian’s body jerked.
Blood sprayed hot against the snow.
Asael’s eyes widened. "My king!"
Kian staggered one step back and spat out a mouthful of blood.
For one frightening second, the defenders near him froze.
The leopard beastman looked almost delighted, as if he had truly done sothing great.
That delight lasted only a breath.
Kian slowly lifted his head.
His blue eyes had turned so cold that even the attacking beastman’s smile died.
Kian dropped the stone blade.
His body bent forward, bones shifting under skin. White fur burst across his shoulders and down his back. His hands struck the ground, claws digging into snow and blood-soaked earth. His body grew larger, heavier, stronger.
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