Chapter 89

• The group departed at dawn, their numbers small but composed of the best warriors from the alliance. Amara led the way, her every step guided by the artifact's faint but insistent pull. Xander flanked her on one side, Asher on the other, their presence a silent reassurance amidst the growing tension. Behind them, a mix of werewolf scouts, fae warriors, and vampire sentinels moved with quiet precision, their faces grim with determination.
• The path toward the location in Amara's vision was treacherous. The air grew heavier as they progressed, thick with a sense of unease that made it hard to breathe. The terrain became increasingly warped—trees twisted into grotesque shapes, their branches clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. Streams of water ran black, and the earth itself seemed to pulse beneath their feet, as if alive and suffering.
• “This place is wrong,” Asher muttered, his usually lighthearted tone replaced with unease. “I feel like we’re walking into the belly of a beast.”