The New Vaziria.
The soldiers of a home that had been snatched away from over four hundred years ago. The people who were the hope of the present-day Vaziria. This was the army Mustafa had never seen forming and this was the very army that had caught him off-guard.
Mustafa was still in the opposition even when he was the ruling king at the moment. Now, who was fighting who? A man who was fighting himself and his seat was really stupid, and that is what Mustafa was doing.
He was hopeless and the council that had once loved and cheered for him had been disbanded by him.
He was alone, running the kingdom with his own minions.
When the first sign of war had been seen a week into Hera's heat, Camille had promised herself she would never interfere. That was a time when no one knew she was a Lycan and vampire. Maybe she was created to bring peace to both kingdoms.
Maybe, just maybe.
