Ace's POV
The man's scream tore through the quiet village like a blade through silk. Before the echo had faded, we were already surging out of Chief Gareth's house, our boots kicking up puffs of dust from the dry earth. The scene before us froze the blood in my veins.
A heavyset merchant stood panting in the town square, his face slick with sweat and his clothes torn. Behind him, he dragged two unconscious werewolves by their scruffs - one with fur like dried blood, the other midnight black. Their massive forms left twin trails in the dirt, their limbs limp as rag dolls. The metallic stench of blood mixed with the sour tang of fear from the gathered villagers.
"Attention, everyone!" Chief Gareth's voice cut through the murmuring crowd like a war horn. "Return to your homes immediately and remain there until further notice!" His command left no room for argument.
