The council chamber erupted into movement. Dozens of werewolves surged toward the town square, their eyes alight with cruel anticipation. The scent of blood and excitement thickened the air.
A vampire was about to die.
Anastasia had no choice but to go with them.
Still bound to the iron trial chair with wolfsbane-laced chains, she was hoisted up by two warrior werewolves, their grips unyielding. She had already been sentenced in their eyes—this was just the prelude to her own doom.
The execution would come first.
Her own would follow.
The square was already packed when they arrived. Torches flickered against the darkening sky, casting eerie shadows over the crowd of eager onlookers. The guillotine stood tall in the center, its silver blade gleaming, waiting for the next head to roll.
