EMBER’S POV
Knox matches their fury like a true beast.
There’s no roar or hesitation to his steps. He just moves with a brutal, blunt-force violence, carried out with the terrifying speed of an apex predator trapped in a bespoke suit.
The first rogue reaches him, and Knox catches the outstretched arm, twists, and snaps the elbow with a wet crack, using the man’s own momentum to hurl him into the second.
They go down in a heap of limbs and splintered wood.
But I can see what the dead-nettle poison is doing to him. Any other night, Knox is a blur, an untouchable force of nature.
Tonight he’s grounded, fighting a desperate war of attrition, hauling a body that’s running on half its usual blood.
A blade flashes from his blindside. He dodges a fraction of a second too late, and the steel
