"Brother!" Isobel called out, rushing to Void, holding his shoulder in confusion.
Her steps were frantic, boots splashing through the crimson puddles, her grip firm yet trembling as concern etched deep lines across her pale face.
"What's going on?" Michael asked, arriving beside Isobel.
His eyes darted between Void and the queen bee, confusion knotting his brow, the residual heat from his transformation still warming his skin in the cooling night.
"I don't know. He just started screaming," she replied in confusion and fear.
Panic laced her words, her free hand hovering uncertainly, the metallic tang of blood thickening the air around them.
"What did you do?" Isobel asked the queen bee. Her tone was cold and filled with hatred, her face one that was scary.
Eyes narrowed into slits, fangs subtly bared, the hatred radiating from her like a palpable force that made the air feel heavier.
