The conclusion came fast and hard, a reality he couldn't ignore especially when the man's blood was also red—nothing like the black that the monster they had seen had oozed out.
It splattered across the cracked stone tiles in a messy, human way. Thick. Wet. Frightening in its familiarity. The sight of it silenced the voices in Jared's head for a moment. A sick certainty took root. His body went still, his hands flexing at his sides as he stared down at what he had done.
"Your highness!" Harriet gasped in shock at Jared's actions, her voice high with disbelief, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. But at the same time, her gaze was on Zyren—whose face had barely changed. His gaze seemed to have that I don't care if you all died look.
Almost like nothing bothered him nor concerned him. It was grating, cold. But at the same time, Harriet knew—deep in her bones—that the vampire cities wouldn't have prospered if he wasn't actually a good king.
