ADAM
They were everywhere.
Even before I counted them, before my mind could make sense of the scene unfolding in the courtyard below, I knew one thing with absolute certainty—we were outmatched.
Not in numbers. In power.
At least fifty vampires prowled the open space beneath us, their movements sharp and predatory, red eyes catching the moonlight as they stalked between fallen bodies.
My guards lay scattered across the stone like broken dolls, throats torn open, chests hollowed, blood slick and blackening as it cooled.
I swallowed hard. At least they hadn't been turned.
That mercy, twisted as it was, settled like ash in my chest. The dead should remain dead.
Beside me, I felt Sage's tension coil tighter, her guilt thrumming through the matebond like a second pulse. It wasn't subtle. It never was with her. Every loss landed on her shoulders as if she alone bore the weight of the world.
