A hundred years had passed since the fall of the Conservatives, and in that span of time, much had changed.
Velira Morvane, once a trembling child forced into the shadows of grief and survival, had long since matured. She had grown into her place within the Ripper clan. At first, it had been nothing short of terrifying. To be torn from the warmth of her father's clan—where mercy still had its place, where the vampires chose to feed without cruelty—only to be thrust into the heart of the Rippers, who bore no restraint, no morality, no hesitation when it came to blood and survival.
The transition had been agonizing. The sights of flesh devoured and blood drained openly had kept her sleepless for years, her heart recoiling with every hunt. She had clung to the faint hope of refusing her mother's path, but reality had swallowed that innocence whole.
Yet, she had not been alone.
