But the strain is evident on his face as he takes his lion form again, golden sparks flowing over his body noticeably slower than they would at home.

“Dive!” Sethran shouts. “Get to the ground, now!”

Exin drops, and I follow. I lower my head so my helm takes the hit of the branches and leaves as I try to land, claws scraping against the bark. As I come to a skidding halt, I take my human form. My axe—held in place with metal loops on my lion armor—falls to the ground as my form changes, but years of practice tell me exactly where it landed. My hand wraps around the familiar, heavy weight as I lift it. Sethran roars a command, but I’ve seen what he is warning me of. I launch myself at the human who’s emerged from the direction of the watchtower, sword in hand. Parrying his strikes, I use my shield again and again until the human’s panting hard from exertion. Swinging around and under him, my axe meets his rib cage, and his body falls.

Breathing hard, I take in the battle around me. By now, the entire coastline is alight. Roars and gunshots, screams and shouts clatter in the air. They weren’t supposed to see us coming, not like this. The humans were supposed to be isolated at their fortress.

“Exin!” I shout, realizing I’ve lost track of him. I call his name again, waiting for his answer but instead hear him howling for me, just ahead to the left. I run in his direction and find him sword to sword with a human. The man is bleeding out of his arm, and Exin from his leg.

I adjust the grip on my axe and yell, as loudly as I can in this form, as I lunge at the human. It’s two against one, and the human is wounded. Exin takes the killing blow. He sits up in triumph, chest heaving and glistening with sweat—but when he tries to stand, he falters. I let him lean on me as he presses down on the wound, air hissing between his teeth.

“Go on without me,” he says. “I’ll slow you down.”

“I’m not going to just leave you,” I say, adjusting his arm around my shoulders, but he pulls it away. “Give me your arm.”

“I’ll slow you,” he repeats. “Go.”

“Exin—”

“I’ll buy you time.” He shoves me in the other direction. “Loyalty above all. Go!”

I stagger back, trying to make my friend’s words make sense, but they don’t. His wound continues to bleed, and in my gut, I know he does not have much time. But I can’t leave.

Then Sethran calls my name from the trees. My commander.