Sera's Pov
I wasn't sure how long I'd been fighting, but my arms ached and my lungs burned. Blood—mine and not—streaked across my skin, dried into my clothes, clinging to my hair. The metallic stench had long since replaced any sense of fresh air. The world had become a blur of growls, steel, spells, and screams.
Most of the wild rogues were dead now. Their bodies lay in twisted shapes across the field. What replaced them now were Kael's people—the mixed bloods. These weren't the mindless, frothing ones who fought like feral beasts. These ones… fought with purpose. With skill. With rage sharpened into precision.
I recognized some of their faces. I'd sparred them, once. Not too long ago. And it was that memory—that raw, unfair pang in my chest—that made it so damn hard to kill them.
I ducked under a wide swing from one of them, flipped my blade up, and knocked the hilt into his jaw with a grunt. He dropped, dazed but breathing. I moved on.
