The sound of cracking stone echoed through the battleground like thunder splitting the sky. Every head turned toward the far end of the arena, where the ancient wall trembled, veins of energy pulsing through its surface like a heartbeat made of magic and dread. Dust showered the ground as a jagged crack split the carved obsidian, and from within that crack, an unnatural light bled into the sacred dueling grounds. Vampires flinched. Even the boldest warriors of the Hive took a step back.
The queen's eyes widened in horror. "No…" she whispered, almost to herself. Then louder—"NO!" she screamed, spinning away from Nora and sprinting toward the crumbling wall, her black cloak flying behind her like the wings of a raven. Her fury was eclipsed only by the fear in her eyes, a fear Nora had never seen before. Not even when the war broke out. Not even when Alaric betrayed the Hive. This was raw. Personal.
