"This is Serena's battle, but I know she can handle it," Fangorn assures, patting my arm through a leather glove before wiping off the debris from his clothes. Forging weapons is a messy business, especially since half of those that you create are designed to kill your own kind. It makes me glad that Fangorn, as per his usual standard, decided to dress appropriately, for if he managed to acquire himself another silver scar Lilyana would surely have his head.
Sucking in my cheeks, I turn for a minute to gaze out onto the war camp that has become my kingdom, fiddling with my rings to aid the jitteriness of my nerves. It is almost bittersweet, my situation. To have united every other vampire and angel in a treaty of peace, aside from the very one that I truly wanted to unite with, the very woman that sparked all of this.
