Sera’s POV
The neutral ground was a place of ghosts.
I'd heard stories about it as a child—tales whispered around fires, warnings passed from parent to child. A valley between territories, used for centuries as a meeting place for enemies who needed to talk. Wolves had died here. Vampires had died here. The very ground was soaked with old blood, old grief, old hatred.
Now it would hold more.
We rode out at dawn, the three of us—Draven, me, and Lady Elara. Behind us, hidden in the trees at the valley's edge, our forces waited. Lyra commanded them, ready to strike if things went wrong. Two hundred wolves, one hundred vampires, all waiting for a signal that might never come.
If things went wrong, we'd all probably die anyway.
The valley opened before us, wide and flat and empty. Morning
