[Third Person].
At the same time, another force carved its way through the war.
Draven moved like something untethered. There was no hesitation in him anymore, no restraint held back for the sake of control or appearance.
He tore through a line of vampires, his claws ripping through one before turning instantly to the next, his movements never slowing, never faltering.
Blood stained the ground beneath him, but he didn't stop. Because even as he fought, his gaze kept flickering across the battlefield again and again, always returning to Meredith.
Every time the pressure around her increased, he felt it. Every time she drew more attention, he adjusted.
At one point, a cluster of enemies closed in on her from behind, their approach masked by the chaos of the fight, but Draven saw it.
In an instant, he broke away from his current position, moving faster than most could track, intercepting them before they could reach her.
