The gates slammed shut behind them with a thunderous clang, cutting off the rogues' howls. The warriors standing guard rushed forward, but stopped cold at the sight of their Beta and Gamma.
Juls staggered, his knees buckling as blood poured from the gash at his ribs. He tried to hold himself upright, but the world tilted dangerously. Roderick caught him with his good arm, though his own leg trembled under the weight of his body.
"You're… bleeding out," Roderick rasped, his voice hoarse from battle.
Juls's lips twisted into a grim smile, crimson running down his chin. "You look worse."
Despite the dark humor, the sight of them made the warriors' stomachs clench. These were Blood Moon's fiercest—legends in their own right—and yet here they were, shredded and stumbling, their blood painting the stones beneath their boots.
