The city burned beautifully.
That was the worst part.
The fire climbed the skyscrapers in waves of orange and gold, smoke curling into the darkened sky like claws scraping toward the heavens. Human screams echoed through the streets beneath the chants of wolves and the shrill laughter of vampires drunk on blood.
And above it all stood Malachai.
Untouchable.
Unstoppable.
A King born from prophecy and violence alike.
My boots crushed broken glass as I staggered through the ruined street, chest heaving. Bodies littered the ground around me. Some human. Some supernatural. None mattered anymore. Not after tonight.
The attack on Fordin City was supposed to be a warning.
Instead, it became a massacre.
The virus had already spread through parts of the city before we arrived. Chaos erupted too quickly for the humans to understand what was happening. They ran into the streets sick and delirious only to be met by vampires tearing through them like wolves among sheep.
