The crowd bulged—then broke. Crimson slashed the throng. The stench of hot iron rose—torches guttered, shadows stretching.

 

A figure stepped forward.

 

Venators on either side of her tensed and stumbled back. They parted as he stepped to the front, red in a sea of black.

​

She’d never seen anything like it—not in battle, not even in her worst dimmares. It moved as if spun from heolfor. The Blood Sovereign had come.

Chapter 15, Unexpected Guests