*~Author's POV~*
The world had shattered.
It wasn't just Hazel's—it was everyone's.
She lay there, lifeless, blood soaking into the dirt beneath her, her body broken, her soul silent. Aurora, barely breathing, was sprawled beside her, veins still dark and pulsating with corrupted magic.
Her legs had snapped from the force of her last spell, but she'd taken two of the five witches with her. Her clones still fought in the distance shadowy versions of herself holding the line, barely.
But the battle had shifted.
O'Brien had killed the last of the wolves Cayden had sent to protect them. One by one, he'd ripped them apart, until he stood over the final one, gripping its neck. In a single twist—snap—it was done.
Then came the worst sound of all.
Laughter.
O'Brien dropped the body and shifted into his human form. Half-naked, drenched in blood, bits of flesh stuck in his teeth, he looked less like a man and more like a monster born from nightmares.
