Page 264 of Vasmora

Reaching out a hand for Kazhimyr, he hauled his friend upright and shoved at his back. “Get to the staircase,” he said, holding out the sword. “I’ll hold them off.”

“I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

“Go!” Zevander roared, the blade steady in his hands.

“You stubborn bastard!” Kazhimyr started for the staircase, Dravien following behind.

Two of the wolves broke from the group. One headed for Zevander, while the other chased after Dravien and Kazhimyr.

Zevander let out a growl and ducked out of the way of the approaching wolf’s massive claws, then drove the sword into the beast’s spine as it tumbled past him. He twisted in time to see the second wolf’s teeth clamp down on Dravien’s leg.

“Ah, fuck!” Dravien cried out, clawing at the ground to get away.

Zevander would’ve helped him, but the moment those teeth sank into the Elvyniran’s flesh, his fate had been sealed.

“Dravien!” Kazhimyr called out.

Zevander bolted toward his friend, and missed the wolf already charging in his direction, until a powerful blow struck his flank, knocking the sword from his hands.

He flew to the side, his shoulder crashing into the staircase.

“Zevander!” Maevyth’s cry echoed in his head, and he ground his teeth, reminded to fight.

The wolf’s teeth clutched his boot, and though he could feel the pressure, it didn’t break through the leather. As his body slid toward the tunnels, he swiped up the sword as he passed it and flexed forward to slam the blade down on the beast’s maw, exposing severed bone and nasal ligaments as he cut it away from its face. Not so much as a whimper of pain came from the wolf, as Zevander jumped to his feet to find other wolves circling them.

Dravien let out a gut-wrenching cry, and through the wolven barrier, Zevander could see the attacking wolf tearing away the Elvyniran’s limb, his leg shredded at the upper thigh.

“Dravien!” Kazhimyr lunged forward, and Zevander gripped his arm, bringing him to a stop.

“You can’t save him. We have to go.” Zevander backed himself toward the staircase, dragging Kazhimyr with him.

Kazhimyr wrenched his arm free. “I can’t leave him.”

“You can’t save him!” Zevander snapped, giving another hard tug of his friend’s arm and urging him up the stairs after him.

With heavy steps, Kazhimyr followed.

The wolves prowled closer.

Two of them lunged, and Zevander leapt in front of his friend, sword swinging. Steel whizzed past their maws, just missing them, and the wolves backed off.

The other two wolves abandoned the fight, and Dravien’s screams heightened as they must’ve joined in on the feast.

Once close enough to the top, Zevander twisted around and strode up the remaining steps. The moment he exited the stairwell, Maevyth wrapped her free arm around him, burying her face in his chest as she shook against him.

Not quite as quickly, Kazhimyr followed, and they slammed the iron door shut, locking the crank to trap the wolves below. Though muffled, Dravien’s cries still bled through the surface, and Kazhimyr sank to his knees with a pained growl, face screwed up in agony.

“What is it?” Zevander looked him over for any sign of a bite and noticed Kazhimyr pressing his palm to his chest.

“I felt … a crack. Like glass … shattering in my chest.” He let out a grunt and rested his head against the iron door. “Fuck! It burns!”

Dravien’s screams heightened from below, and Kazhimyr shook, groaning.

Torryn knelt beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder, but Kazhimyr shoved at his arm.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he rasped.

A frown tugged at Zevander’s brows as he watched his fellow Letalisz writhe and tremble, a realization finally dawning on him.