The sight of the single black wing, so out of place yet so perfectly fitting on his back, stole the breath from Mother's lungs. The horn protruding from his forehead pulsed with a dark light, mirroring the wicked gleam in his eyes. She knew, with a chilling certainty, that she had made a terrible mistake. This was no longer a battle, it was a slaughter, and she was the prey.
"I... I don't understand," she stammered, her voice a mere whisper, her hands trembling slightly. She was the ruler of this section, the source of all its power, yet in this moment, she felt utterly powerless. The fear was raw, visceral, something she had never experienced before... not from a human at least
