A subtle silence settled over the battlefield, thick and heavy, pressing down on everyone present. The clash of steel and howls of rage faded into nothing, replaced by the sharp, metallic stench of blood that hung in the air far stronger than before. It was impossible to ignore, seeping into every breath, clinging to the back of the throat.
All eyes were fixed on Zyren and Lord Virelle.
No one spoke. No one moved.
Shock rippled outward in waves, visible in the way jaws tightened, hands trembled, and eyes widened as reality slowly sank in.
King Jared was the first to break the stillness.
With a furious snarl, he dashed forward, boots pounding against the ground. Rage fueled his steps, his thoughts racing ahead of him. He was too slow. The vampire lord must have struck first. Zyren must already be dead—or dying.
That thought alone nearly made him smile.
But then he saw it.
