Chapter 118. Delta of the Lost Arrive

Eryndor’s POV

I left Rydan behind in one of the underground bunkers alongside the other humans and broke into a sprint toward the south. As I ran, I scanned the ruins for any sign of the smaller fry werewolves—and found none. This silence felt ominous; it meant their forces were likely massed farther ahead. Urgency tore at me, but my legs moved slower than they had in the previous battle. Fatigue and lingering wounds weighed me down.

Spotting a house that still stood more or less intact amid the wreckage, I ducked inside and slammed the door. The interior was dusty but undamaged by the fighting. I sank onto a broken wooden chair, gasped for breath, and drank deep from my water canteen. As I rested, I prayed nothing catastrophic was happening back at the front, and that soon I’d be racing back to join the fray. It was almost inconceivable that all of this—carnage, fear, the city in flames—had erupted in a single day.

That morning had begun so serenely. I’d be