POV: APHRODITE
We burst into camp to find Draco clutching his side, blood seeping between his fingers. The twins clearly fought something, and from the destroyed deer carcass in the center of camp, they lost more than they won.
"Rogue," Lucen explains tersely as I rush to examine Draco's wounds. "Tried to steal our kill. We drove him off but he tore through the meat before leaving."
I press bandages against Draco's wounds, watching them already start to close with supernatural speed. The gashes are deep but not fatal. He'll heal within hours.
"We need to try again," Lucen says, pacing with restless energy. "We can't survive on plants alone."
"Then we hunt together," I say firmly. "All of us. No more splitting up."
The next day, we try coordinated hunting. All six of us moving through the forest in formation, tracking a small herd of deer Cassian spotted at dawn.
It should work better. More eyes. More strength. More coordination.
Instead, it's a disaster.
