“It seems they were here.” Hadrius tilts his head heavenwards, studying the faint crowding of dark clouds. He inhales mildly and lowers his gaze back to the path set before them.
A village had been massacred— and it was not by his men.
The buildings lay decapitated, blood splashed across the walls and earth as though someone had done it deliberately. He drags a thoughtful finger through the dirt and lifts it to his nose, taking a short whiff before licking the sand. It tastes familiar, of dirt and rustic blood yet underneath lies a subtle undertone of fur.
The taste of something putrid… rotten… nonhuman.
It was neither the wolves nor was it the vampires.
Hadrius gathers a fistful of the coarse sand and straightens, watching as the contents slip from between his fingers. “Any survivors
