There's a lump fast forming in Arlinn's throat, but she doesn't have time for that now. Red light's painting the stark fear of the crowd in horrific shadow. A lycanthrope only a little smaller than a siege tower beats a fist against the edge of the magical barrier.

Crack.

Arlinn cannot tear her eyes from the horde—from the wolves pacing along with the lycanthropes. If she looks long enough, she is sure to see familiar faces, and the thought fills her with dread. "Chandra, Adeline—"

***

EPISODE 4: HARVESTIDE