Ciara's eyes burned with a fierce determination as she turned away from the smoking remains of Nathaniel. The air was thick with the lingering scent of charred flesh and magic, a grim reminder of what had just transpired.
I exchanged a quick glance with Seraphine, whose eyes were wide but filled with resolve. Lydia, meanwhile, clenched her jaw, her hands still gripping her bow tightly as if ready for whatever came next.
"We're moving," Ciara commanded, her voice slicing through the tension. Without waiting for a response, she marched out of Nathaniel's house, her purple flames still flickering faintly around her fingertips, a warning to anyone foolish enough to get in her way.
We followed her into the winding streets of the demon city, our footsteps echoing against the cobblestones.
