"Evie! That area's full of Wisps! They might attack you!"
Rox's shout cracked through the fog, but his sister's warning vanished with the wind. Evie had already sprinted into the glow—straight toward the danger.
Rox didn't think; he bolted after her.
"Rox!" Roxy screamed. Disbelief splintered her voice. Her own brother abandoning formation for a girl they'd met hours ago?
She drew breath to curse him back into line—then froze. Ragnar stepped out too, blade drawn low, shadows crawling along the steel.
"What the effing F****—!" Roxy swore and spat, torn between duty and survival. With the front wide open, she had no choice. "Damn it all!" She sprinted after them.
Ragnar didn't follow out of recklessness. Evie could've fled like Michael's group—but she'd run back. That meant something. She'd found something. Staying meant slow death. Following offered a sliver of hope.
