Page 49 of The Midnight Death Match

But a man staggers forward through a newly opened door, half-collapsing to one knee. His cloak is torn, streaked with dried blood. His left arm hangs at an odd angle, bound hastily in a makeshift sling.

There’s something familiar about him, though I can’t figure out what.

The woman with silver tattoos curses under his breath. “Kelder.”

The man lifts his head, breathing ragged. His gaze lands on her with a mixture of relief and panic. “I made it.”

Lys is already at his side, catching him before he slumps fully. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

“I lost them two nights ago by circling and using wards I found.”

Einar gestures for the rebels to lower their weapons, but no one fully relaxes.

Kelder’s gaze swings toward me next. “You need to hear this, huntress. It’s not just your blood they’re after anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

My father tenses next to me. “Who?”

“The elders.”

For some unknown reason, that sends a shudder through me.

Harek’s voice is tight. “My parents?”

“Alive for now. They fought off the defenders.” Kelder coughs roughly. “But they weren’t alone. They’re inside Mirendel.” He turns to me. “Looking for you.”

The words are a punch to the gut. Despite how much I’ve learned and grown over the past few months, I’m not ready for any of this.

Kelder struggles to catch his breath, voice dropping lower. “They’re coming for your siblings next.”

I stumble back, momentarily unable to find any words. My siblings. The weight of that single word slams through me harder than any blade. I fight to keep my voice steady. “Are they safe now?”

Kelder shakes his head, still catching his breath. “Only for the moment. The golden coven has hidden them with spells, but… they won’t stay hidden long. The infiltrators know who to look for. They know your family’s bloodline runs strong.”

Lys shifts beside me, his grip on Kelder tightening briefly before releasing.

“How did they get in?” I ask, my voice dropping lower.

“They’re using humans,” Kelder says bitterly. “Merchants, travelers. Disguised, glamoured. Once inside, they blend, recruit, spread rumors—fear of halflings, fear of you.”

“Unfortunately, that isn’t surprising.”

He nods. “Skoro’s on edge, and any spark could light it.”

The room behind us is still, the rebels watching, absorbing every word. Whispers move too quickly between those gathered.

“They’re accelerating,” Einar mutters. “They’re not waiting for you to stumble anymore. They’re forcing your hand.”

“Mine too,” Harek adds darkly. “My parents are barely holding ground. If the golden coven hadn’t intervened, it could’ve been so much worse.” His jaw clenches tight.

The weight of it presses against my chest—heavier than even the curse. Our families are now being hunted because of me. Because I exist and dared to survive.

I lift my chin, forcing my voice steady even as my pulse pounds. “We’re going to face them head on.”

Einar shifts slightly, watching me.

“If they want to drag Mirendel into this,” I continue, “then we stand before they can light that match. We fight them before it becomes another Courtsview.”

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