Chapter 55

The battlefield was silent now, save for the soft murmurs of those slowly regaining their bearings. Cassius stood among the wreckage, his sharp senses overwhelmed by the cacophony of pain and the sharp, metallic tang of blood that lingered in the air. It was everywhere - human, werewolf, fae and other creatures - mixing into an intoxicating, maddening swirl.

His fists clenched at his sides as he tried to center himself. The vampire’s centuries of stoic discipline were straining under the weight of the carnage around him. He prided himself on his control, the iron will that allowed him to walk among others without succumbing to the primal urges that haunted all vampires. But now, with the chaos, the fear, and the acrid taste of dark magic still lingering on his tongue, his composure was faltering.

He took a step back, away from the thickest concentration of wounded. His breathing was steady, but his jaw clenched tight.

This is too much. I need to leave. Now.

The taste of blood in the a