"No."
The knights fell silent, their eyes fixed on their lord.
Geisler dismounted his horse, his boots crunching against the earth as he strode forward.
He stopped near the larger tracks, staring down at the deep indentations as though they were a personal affront.
He clasped his hands behind his back, his fingers tightening around his wrist.
When he spoke, his voice was calm, deliberate, yet brimming with an icy intensity that sent a chill through his men.
"We follow the beast," Geisler declared. "These women are irrelevant. They are pawns in a game far greater than their insignificant lives. If they survive, they may return to their tribes, but their role here is finished."
He turned to Aldred, his gaze hard and unyielding.
"Do you think I care for their motives? For their survival? No. I care only for the creature that crushed my son—my blood. Maxillian may have been young, arrogant, even reckless, but he was mine.
