Damien had been watching the battle from a distance.
His role was clear: protect the family if the danger broke past the first line of defense.
His aunts stood beside him, tense and ready, weapons in hand should the fight spill closer.
Clutching his daggers, Damien couldn't hide the small flicker of pride in his chest as he saw his sister holding her ground with ease against the creatures.
Calling them demons felt right—beings stripped of sanity, driven only by the hunger to hunt.
"They don't care about the damage they're taking," Tessa muttered, lips parted in disbelief.
Reid and William stood firm despite not having their usual armaments, fighting with raw skill and willpower.
Arbit, however, was struggling. He swung and staggered, but the monsters pressed in without pause. They never checked their wounds, never flinched at broken bones or deep cuts. It was as if pain itself had been cut out of their bodies, leaving only the thirst for blood and flesh.
