"They seek your blood in ritual sacrifice. But not to cure themselves. They seek your death upon the altar to free themselves of their binds to the sun and to sacred ground."
Serena blinked.
The ancestors had really buried the lede there. They could have started with "by the way, you're a human battery for an apocalypse ritual" instead of the ambient whispering and dramatic fire.
Suddenly, Hurricane Finnick Shadowclaw felt distant in comparison.
This frightened her. It wasn't just the fear of them killing her. She was desensitized to that part. No, this was deeper than that on a soul level.
A fear that her blood recognized. The vampires weren't trying to eat her. They were trying to use her as a sacrifice ritual to undo every limitation keeping them from becoming an extinction-level event.
That was so much fucking worse.
"The last forty-eight hours for you have been but a taste of what befell the First Dragon Kingdom and the First Fae Kingdom, millennia apart."
