Deborah's POV
As I regained consciousness, I found myself leaning against Matthew, his quiet, steady presence grounding me.
He sat silently beside me, his gaze soft in a way I hadn't felt in a long time.
To steer the conversation from anything emotional, I asked, "Is everything ready?"
Matthew nodded, a faint, reassuring smile crossing his lips.
"No one was seriously hurt in the attack two weeks ago, were they?" I asked softly, a hint of worry slipping through despite myself.
"Just a few minor injuries—no one lost their life." His voice was calm and reassuring. "And they've all recovered."
"That's a relief," I sighed.
"We have you to thank for that," he said, his gaze filled with a depth of gratitude that made me feel oddly exposed. "You freed us from the seals."
I deflected his thanks with a faint smile, looking away.
After a pause, Matthew spoke again, his tone hesitant. "Deb, I know… I misunderstood you before…"
I could sense that he wanted to revisit the painful misunderstandings between us, but I cut him off, shifting the subject quickly. "The people behind the Sky Cities won't just let us move the remaining three underground cities' inhabitants to Tirfothuinn. They'll never release their grip so easily."
Matthew studied me for a moment, a puzzled look crossing his face. "Deb, how do you know all this? These details… we've never heard anything like this before. Where did you learn it?"
My heart raced, uncertainty creeping up my spine. The truth couldn't come to light now—any exposure of what I truly knew would destroy everything we'd worked for.
Matthew's expression softened into a slight, half-smile. "Did you learn it… in another dream?" he asked.
I hesitated, then nodded, forcing a slight smile. "Yes… something like that."
He sighed, disappointment flickering in his gaze. But he didn't press further. "Deb, I've always thought there's a veil around you—something mysterious that keeps you hidden, like there's a world between us that I can't reach. You have a quality I've never seen before in anyone from these cities."
I lowered my head, silent, letting his words settle in the quiet night air.
There was a searching quality in his gaze, a gentle yet probing curiosity. "Sometimes, I wonder if you're from somewhere else entirely. As if you didn't grow up underground at all, but came from another world."
The cool night breeze brushed against my skin, carrying his words straight to the part of me that I'd worked so hard to keep hidden. My heart stilled, caught by his uncanny insight.
Perhaps he had sensed more than he was saying, but I couldn't let my guard down.
My past, my true identity—these were secrets bound within the depths of this night, obscured like the sea's infinite horizon before us.
I managed a faint, guarded smile, letting my gaze drift back to the vast expanse of ocean.
It felt as though the dark waves might swallow all my secrets whole.
Then the tranquility of the night shattered.
Matthew's face, along with the others', instantly shifted, transforming with the alertness of predators sensing imminent danger. In the dim light, their expressions sharpened, muscles tensing as they prepared for an unseen threat.
"What is it, Matt?" I whispered, confused by their sudden alertness.
He didn't answer right away, his gaze trained far off into the distance. After a tense moment, he spoke quietly, "Something's moving out there."
I held my breath, straining to hear, but the silence persisted. Only the waves echoed back.
The heightened instincts of the werewolves astounded me, reminding me just how limited my human senses were. They could pick up on the faintest sounds, things beyond human perception.
"It's an engine," Matthew said, his voice calm yet laced with urgency.
An engine? My heart skipped a beat. Could it be the people from the Sky Cities? The thought of an attack by those with high-tech weapons, lurking under the cover of night, sent a wave of dread through me.
Matthew's expression grew graver.
He turned toward me, his hand reaching to grasp my arm firmly, his voice low but steady with reassurance. "Deb, you need to hide. With the werewolves guarding Tirfothuinn, we'll keep you safe. Your wounds haven't healed completely, and tonight, your magic might not be enough. Their technology is something even witchcraft may struggle against."
His words made the gravity of the situation sink in.
As the Alpha of the White Wolf Clan, Matthew bore the responsibility of protecting his people.
He would not only have to command this battle but also ensure the safety of everyone under his care.
In his gaze, I saw an intense mixture of concern and resolve.
It was as if every second of our separation weighed on him, laden with a quiet yet powerful worry.
And then the alarm blared, slicing through the night and plunging Tirfothuinn into full alert.
Around us, werewolves sprang into action, each moving with silent efficiency.
They exchanged murmured commands, their eyes sweeping the area as they readied themselves to confront whatever was approaching.
In the distance, a low rumble grew, slowly approaching.
It sounded like an enormous craft bearing down upon us, unsettling and ominous, as though something unspeakably powerful lurked beyond the darkness.
I held my breath, feeling the weight of tension in the air grow heavier.
Matthew turned to me one last time, his expression steely with resolve. "Whatever happens, I'll come back for you."
With that, he vanished into the darkness, leading the werewolves into formation.
In the moonlight, his figure appeared tall and unyielding, like a mountain standing resolute against an approaching storm.
Within the flickering firelight, Sanctifolium's boundary shimmered, an invisible wall that kept everything beyond its reach from disturbing Tirfothuinn. But as a "Demon," I was left outside, barred from stepping inside the sanctuary's protective hold.
The truth was, I had nowhere to hide. I could only press myself close to Sanctifolium's edge, feeling its power pulsate against my skin, staring into the night sky with every sense on high alert.
In the distance, the rumbling grew louder, each note vibrating against the earth, filling the air with a tangible tension.
And then, they appeared: a fleet of dark, monstrous aircraft hanging in the air above Tirfothuinn, with a presence so ominous it felt like the end of days.
Each craft was massive, its steely, angular structure gleaming coldly under the dim moonlight. The wings stretched wide, casting long shadows that seemed to swallow the ground below, as if they intended to smother Tirfothuinn under their weight.
The design was brutal, every angle crafted with a single purpose: to intimidate, to conquer.
The surface was covered in intricate mechanisms, every line and joint reflecting the Sky Cities' merciless advancement in technology.
The streamlined metal plating glinted with a silver sheen, like scales of a mechanical beast.
Rows of weaponry lined the underbelly, massive cannons rotating and adjusting, locking onto targets within Tirfothuinn's bounds.
The roar of their engines was deafening, a rumble that echoed through the air like a wild beast's growl.
The turbulent wind from the aircraft's engines swept across the beach, stirring up waves of sand that whipped across the shore, tearing through the air like a desert storm.
Sand sprayed everywhere, blanketing the coastline in a thick, suffocating haze.
The sheer force of the wind tugged at my clothes, threatening to pull me off balance, leaving me breathless.
Suddenly, a rain of bullets cascaded from above, their fiery red trails cutting through the night, lighting up the sky as they pummeled Sanctifolium's barrier.
Each bullet seared the air, streaking like sparks through the darkness, accompanied by a shrill, ear-splitting whine.
Sanctifolium's shield was already weakened.
The werewolves stood tense, their eyes fixed on the energy field's shimmering waves, tracking each impact.
Bombs exploded against Sanctifolium, sending waves of dazzling light as they bounced off the shield, like pebbles skimming across water, creating ripples of energy with each collision.
Inside, some stray blasts reached Tirfothuinn, igniting fierce flames.
It was because of me that the Sky Cities had discovered Tirfothuinn, a hidden paradise that should have remained unknown.
Leading Murias's residents here had inadvertently exposed this place to destruction.
Guilt surged within me.
I had to protect Tirfothuinn, no matter the cost.
"Sanctuarium!" I shouted, drawing on every reserve of strength.
In an instant, Sanctifolium's shield surged back to life, mending the cracks and restoring its defense.
The spell drained me immensely, but I hoped this would hold off the assault, if only for a while.
A cheer rose from within Tirfothuinn: "Sanctifolium is holding!"
From the massive aircraft above, thousands of soldiers began descending, weapons raised.
The assault intensified.
As bullets rained down, enormous bombs dropped from the aircraft's belly, leaving streaks of fire in their wake as they hurtled toward the ground.
Each explosion rocked the earth, massive fireballs lighting up the sky and turning the beach into a field of burning chaos.
Even through Sanctifolium, the heat was intense, the smoke thick and suffocating, filling the air with the acrid smell of burning metal and scorched earth.
The sky was obscured by a thick shroud of smoke, blotting out the stars as though night itself had been set ablaze.
Werewolves, in their transformed, feral forms, fought with relentless determination, their claws and teeth pitted against the cold, unyielding metal of modern weapons.
The disparity was staggering, a brutal reminder of how powerless they were against such advanced technology.
One by one, werewolves fell, their strength and speed no match for the firepower of the Sky Cities' forces.
The ground around me was littered with their bodies, each fallen protector a silent testament to the savage cost of this battle.
With each hit Sanctifolium took, the barrier pulsed, the waves of energy shimmering like a heartbeat under assault.
The renewed shield trembled, struggling to repel the sheer force of each impact.
Every bomb that struck the ground outside the barrier sent shockwaves through the sand, the powerful blasts kicking up dust and debris, transforming the peaceful beach into a wasteland of craters and rubble.
Then, without warning, the aircraft deployed an array of laser weaponry, beams of blinding light slicing through the darkness with lethal precision.
The lasers rained down on Sanctifolium, piercing the night with intense, focused heat.
Each ray struck the barrier like a blade, leaving ripples of energy in its wake, a tangible reminder of the Sky Cities' terrifying power.
I watched, helpless, as Sanctifolium absorbed the relentless barrage.
The barrier vibrated under the strain, the sheer force of the lasers nearly breaking through.
With each hit, a ripple of energy radiated outward, shimmering in the night, a fragile defense against the onslaught.
Sanctifolium stood firm, a bastion against the destruction raining down from above.
But each strike chipped away at its defenses, weakening it, and I felt the strain deep within me, as if every blow landed on my own body, each impact resonating with a pain I couldn't ignore.