The rain slackened just enough to see the outlines of the ravine ahead.
It wasn't relief—it was a warning. Storms always quiet right before they do their worst.
Both squads held position at the ridge mouth, the wind howling through the narrow cut in the rock. I could feel the tension radiating between us—two lines of trained fighters, both here for the same unspoken reason, yet unwilling to acknowledge it.
The ravine's walls funneled the sound, turning each gust into a hollow roar. But beneath that, I could hear something heavier. Footfalls. Slow, deliberate… far too heavy to be human.
"They're close," Vell said under his breath. His knuckles whitened around his spear shaft.
From somewhere above, a shadow skimmed the rain, passing so close overhead that the air seemed to ripple. A faint rustle of feathers followed, too large to be any ordinary bird.
The Beast.
Danya's head tilted upward, her eyes tracking the movement. "It's circling."
Before I could answer, a crash echoed from deeper within the ravine—wood splintering, stone shifting. The sound carried with it a guttural growl, so low I felt it more than heard it. The Monster.
The air between those two cries felt electric, charged with the certainty of collision.
Tessa stepped forward, her squad shifting behind her in instinctive readiness. "If they meet here, we'll be caught in the crossfire."
"You think I don't know that?" I shot back before I could stop myself.
Her gaze sharpened. "Then fall back."
I was already shaking my head. "Too late. Look at the tracks. They're funnelling right here."
The storm seemed to agree—wind surging, rain falling harder. Lightning tore the sky open again, revealing the silhouette of the Beast against the dark clouds: long wings, hooked beak, tail feathers that trailed like streamers. It banked sharply, vanishing from sight as the thunder rolled in.
A second silhouette emerged below—a hulking shape moving low to the ground, its massive frame twisting unnaturally as it forced its way through the ravine. Even from this distance, I could see the claws.
The Monster was larger than I'd imagined… and faster.
Before either squad could act, a third movement cut through the rain.
Halvren.
He stepped into the ravine from the opposite side, cloak whipping in the wind, eyes fixed on the Monster. There was no hesitation in his stride—he moved as though the storm and the killing intent ahead didn't exist.
"Is he insane?" Brayden hissed.
"He's Halvren," Vell said grimly. "Same thing."
The Beast's cry pierced the sky again, this time closer—too close. The Monster answered with a roar, shaking loose fragments of stone from the ravine walls.
The collision should have happened right then. But Halvren reached the center of the ravine first.
He didn't draw a weapon.
Instead, he planted his boots on the churned earth and raised one hand—not to the Beast, but toward the Monster.
The thing slowed.
Not stopped—just slowed, its head jerking as if it had suddenly noticed something far more dangerous than the winged predator above. A pulse of air swept outward from Halvren's position, heavy enough to ripple the rain. The Monster's claws sank deeper into the mud, leaving deep trenches.
The Beast swooped low, feathers flashing silver where the lightning caught them. Its talons grazed the air above Halvren's head—too precise to be coincidence—and then it banked away sharply, vanishing back into the storm.
The Monster gave a sound halfway between a snarl and a frustrated bellow before it, too, turned, smashing its way into the deeper forest. Its shadow melted into the rain.
And just like that… the collision was gone.
I stared down at the ravine, heart pounding. "What did he just do?"
Tessa didn't answer. Her squad looked just as stunned as mine.
Halvren didn't acknowledge either group. He glanced once in our direction—no smile, no warning, just a brief measure of our condition—and then started after the Monster, vanishing into the mist like the storm had claimed him.
For a long moment, the only sound was the rain again.
Danya finally broke it. "He… drove them off."
Vell shook his head slowly. "No. He didn't drive them anywhere. He… redirected them."
"Toward what?" Brayden asked.
No one had an answer.
The storm closed in again, as if determined to erase the moment. But the tension lingered, heavy and unspoken. Both squads had seen something they weren't meant to—Halvren's direct intervention, the scale of what we were facing, the way the Beast and the Monster had both reacted to him.
Tessa took a step toward me. "If either of those things circles back, we'll need more than just two squads."
I met her gaze. "Then we'd better be ready."
The wind shifted, carrying with it a faint cry—the Beast again, somewhere far off. The Monster's answering roar was muted now, but still too close for comfort.
The storm hadn't broken. Not really.
It had just given us a warning.