Freya's fury burned hotter than the pain in her leg.
Micah's betrayal was a cowardly, desperate move—a dagger to her leg to ensure she'd be the one left behind.
Her hands trembled as she clutched the wound, blood pooling beneath her.
Ezekiel caught sight of the attack and clenched his fists in anger, his jaw tightening.
He looked like he was about to act, but then his gaze flicked forward.
His resolve hardened.
Helping Freya now could cost him his life.
He forced himself to stay focused and take another step.
Dorion, on the other hand, snickered. "Guess I'm not the only one willing to play dirty to survive," he muttered, amused by the chaos.
Baranga's fiery eyes remained locked on Ezekiel and Dorion, its massive form moving menacingly toward them.
This shift in attention left Micah and Freya behind—an opening they could use to move.
But Freya's situation was dire.
