( …continued at Archer's end)
Archer didn't pay attention to Delilah's babbling.
He stormed towards the infirmary.
Every stride was fueled by fear, fury, and the raw need to keep Delilah breathing.
Her limp body bounced weakly in his arms with every jolt, her head rolling against his chest.
"Hold on, Lila… just hold on…"
His voice broke, barely audible even to himself.
He was halfway to the infirmary when…there was a ripple in the air.
A strange shift.
A pressure.
And suddenly the witches appeared.
They materialized in the middle of the way like smoke solidifying into shapes.
Three from the pack's coven.
All with glowing threads woven into their sleeves representing their ranks…two blood witches, one seer.
Archer's eyes snapped up.
His expression went from panic to murderous rage in a blink.He didn't have time for such trivial delays.
His shoulders squared.
His jaw locked.
Every muscle in his body coiled like a loaded weapon ready to break something...
