Drezova City...
The Vampires council chamber was tense, heavy with voices clashing against one another.
"We waste too much time!" one elder snapped, his pale hand slamming against the oak table. "Every moon cycle we sit here speaking, while the werewolves spread their claws deeper into our territory."
Across from him, another vampire leaned back, lips curling.
"And what do you propose? Rush into the dark with no direction? The Relic is not a trinket to stumble upon. Even the wolves have not found it."
At the head of the table sat Valerian, his crimson eyes calm, but terrifying. He looked younger than all of them, early thirties in appearance, but no one dared forget his centuries of power.
The air bent subtly around him and silence always fell when he chose to speak. But tonight, he did not. He let them argue.
The female at his right, Bethany, leaned forward with quiet poise. Her long fingers tapped once against the table, drawing attention.
