Blood splattered across the obsidian floor of the throne room, a crimson testimony to the Vampire King's wrath. The headless body of his once-loyal general twitched at his feet, the last spasms of death wracking the corpse.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice your cowardice?" the king snarled, wiping his bloodied hand on the dead vampire's cloak. "That I wouldn't sense your fear when I mentioned her name?"
The other generals stood rigidly at attention, their faces carefully blank despite the execution they'd just witnessed. None dared meet their king's gaze directly.
"Leave us," he commanded, sinking back onto his obsidian throne.
They filed out silently, stepping around their former comrade's remains with practiced indifference. The heavy doors closed behind them with an ominous thud, leaving the king alone with his seething thoughts.
"Seraphina Blackwood," he whispered the name like a curse, his claws digging into the armrests of his throne. "The woman who can read the Altars."
