Splat.
A sickening wet crunch echoed through the courtroom as blood splattered across the marble floor. The vampire minister who had stood only moments ago was gone, obliterated. The floor beneath him cracked from the sheer force of the impact.
Gasps and screams erupted. Some human ministers collapsed in sheer horror, their faces wet with tears and snot, the scent of blood triggering an almost primal fear. They knew— they were next.
Arabella felt her stomach churn. She staggered back, her hand flying to her mouth as she saw Iliza slowly lift her blood drenched palm from the floor. The minister hadn't just died—he'd been turned into a smear of flesh and bones.
Atlas exhaled a slow breath. "Troll potion," he muttered grimly.
Iliza's deformed body turned, her grotesque head scanning the room as she released a shriek so high-pitched and sharp it forced Arabella to clutch her ears. She winced as the sound pierced through her.
