Three days later.
King Jared walked, shoulders squared and head high, even as his lords and bodyguards followed closely behind him. Their heavy footfalls echoed through the grand paved street that led into the heart of the vampire main city. The towering obsidian spires loomed above them, casting long shadows that darkened the path ahead.
The tensions were extremely high.
It didn't help that the vampires walked closely behind and around them in a formation that seemed almost deliberate—tight, sharp, and suffocating. It wasn't a warm welcome. If anything, it felt like a silent threat.
The werewolves growled and bared their teeth, shoulders rising with every small movement from the vampire guards.
And the vampire guards didn't hesitate to bare their fangs right back.
Each side moved like coiled serpents, every glance an invitation to war, every twitch a potential spark. The silent standoff burned with suppressed rage.
