Yarin's POV:
This situation had my mother in a frenzy and my father scrambling, as they managed to call
us to ensure our safety before diving into the task of safeguarding the Lycan Pack and capturing the fugitives.
As the sky turned dark and cloudy, the town seemed to echo the mood-ominous and restless. The relentless wind carried a humid heat, a sign that rain was imminent.
The first rain of May fell quietly, amidst the spread of wickedness throughout the city.
With no school and no homework, we lounged on the couch, bored. We didn't have the heart to play, nor the mind to rest. The Charlies' estate stood calm and quiet, but the urgent raindrops against the window felt like they were heralding tumultuous undercurrents in the city.
Watching the rain outside, I thought crossed my mind, and I asked Eden, "Will Lydia stay at the school today, or is she going back to her relatives?"
Eden replied, "She'll probably be at school. She usually stays there when she's not busy and doesn't go to her aunt's place much."
"I'm worried those two fugitives might cause trouble for her. People like them won't reflect on their actions."
"That's true... but the academy has strong security measures. Plus, the teachers likely ordered the dormitory students to stay in their rooms and not go out. Lydia should be safe."
"Do you think so?" But the more I thought about it, the more I realized there were too many loopholes at the Sivir Academy. "The security in prison must be a hundred times stronger than at the academy, yet even the prison was breached. If those two are truly ruthless, the academy probably won't be able to stop them."
As I spoke, everyone started to realize the severity of the situation and grew more solemn.
"But we can't go out now either," Cynthia said. "The external security guards the estate, watching over us as well. After the trouble we've caused before, Mom won't let us get involved this time."
"So, we need to seek help," I said.
Eden called Autumn and learned that she, her parents, and she were sheltering at home, and their neighborhood was also being protected by the military and police.
She decided to take on the task of monitoring Lydia's safety, making sure she remained secure. If any danger emerged, they would be notified immediately.
Then, I contacted Mom and found out that the boarding school was also a focal point for military guarding.
"It's good that you're concerned about your classmates' safety," she said. "But you must not act recklessly, understand?"
I obediently agreed.
However, some things don't wait for you to go searching for them-they come to find you.
In the middle of the night, the rain intensified. Water poured from the eaves' drainage grooves like waterfalls, washing the grass almost pale.
Amid the clamor of the rain, I heard something striking against my window.
Once, twice, thrice, four, five, six times-it started slowly, with occasional thuds, then gradually increased.
As I was about to get up and see what was happening, the sound suddenly disappeared after waiting a few seconds.
Was it just an illusion? Raindrops hitting the window?
I dismissed it, wanting to go back to sleep, but the sound returned once more.
Something was off. I had to see what was going on.
The window was blurred by the rain, and I couldn't see outside clearly, only vague distortions of black shadows. I leaned in to observe more closely and noticed some strange black marks on the window.
They looked like mud spots but stubbornly clung to the glass even under the rain's force, as if something had struck the window forcefully, leaving its mark almost embedded in the glass. What on earth could it be?
Just as I was about to get closer, in that instant, something whizzed out of the darkness, slamming into the window with a thud.
"1"
I was startled, instinctively stepping back two paces, my hair standing on end as I waited for a potential danger, except for another black smear left on the window.
Apparently, it was what had attacked the window.
What was it?
I slowly approached the window and saw something trembling faintly on the outside windowsill.
It was a fragmented moth, torn apart, its wings broken, antennae mutilated, twitching weakly on the brink of death, falling into the darkness within seconds in the storm.
In an instant, a chilling sensation overcame me.
Moths, moths-why was it them again?
Had Azazel appeared in the Lycan Pack?
No, that couldn't be. He should be with the Lily of the Valley now, or at the very least, in human territory. Even if he sneaked into the Lycan territory, the various branches of the Sorcery Research Association across the land would surely detect the fluctuations of malevolent energy and wouldn't let him proceed unchecked.
Then what were these moths about?
As I pondered, more moths-throwing themselves into suicide-battered against the window. They targeted only this specific window as if they wanted to shatter it.
Wait, even if it was not Azazel, there were cultists within the Lycan Pack, right?
I couldn't help but look into the blurry darkness of the rain and shadows, where two figures seemed to stand, revealing an evil smile aimed at me.