Alaric's POV
Two years of war had led us to this final showdown. Dusk bled purple across the horizon as our wolf battalion formed ranks outside the castle's towering iron gates. Every warrior held their position with lethal precision.
The shifters who'd perfected their wolf shapes prowled the front line, foam dripping from exposed fangs as claws scraped stone. Their muscles bunched like coiled steel. Behind them, armored soldiers stood in perfect rows, their golden chainmail catching the last rays of sunlight and shooting blazing reflections across the battlefield.
Vivienne held command from the center formation, breathtaking and dangerous in her polished gold armor. Her flame-red hair was braided tight against her skull and tucked under her war helmet. Extra blades gleamed from her shoulder guards, their edges burning with the captured light that would slice through vampire skin like butter.
