Exile stepped into the lead instead, his massive frame acting as a human battering ram through the dense garden overgrowth. His heavy boots crushed the stone debris as he carved a straight, brutal line toward the western ridge. Beside him, Lucan flickered in and out of sight, a lethal ghost anchoring their forward guard, ensuring no remaining rogue tiger guards could ambush them from the flanking paths.
Ivan took up the rear. His golden eyes were wide, tracking every shifting shadow, his claws extended and still faintly stained with the residue of his neurotoxin. The entire settlement was in absolute upheaval now; the distant wail of the sirens grew louder, echoing off the sandstone facades of the old Victorian buildings as panic spread through the market districts.
