The closer their caravan came to Orașul Sângelui, the more the umbre de sânge seemed to dance inside Tate’s veins at euphoric levels. He knew the origins of his magic, the magic of the sangpyth, were from this vampiric city, but to experience their homecoming pump through his body was remarkable. Their overpowering joy tempered his own emotions, though allowing himself to be overcome with these feelings kept getting punctured repeatedly with a souring guilt.
He shouldn’t be smiling. He shouldn’t be happy.
So inwardly, he battered down their celebration with his petulant growls. With Jaelyn missing, there was no room for happiness right now.
Though his overly giddy sentient magic became less an issue the closer they crept to the ruins of Orașul Sângelui when his concentration broke away
