Third POV
The underground arena of The Dark Hour pulsed with energy as spectators roared and placed their final bets. The fighting pit at the center was being prepared for the next match.
Lucas and Liam stood at the edge of the ring, speaking in low tones as they assessed their opponent. A tall, lean vampire with jet-black hair paced the opposite side, his fangs partially extended in anticipation. He was surrounded by a few friends of his own, each of them egging him on as he looked at them tauntingly.
“Remember,” Lucas said, keeping his voice steady despite the concern gnawing at his insides, “vampires are quick, but their movements are predictable once you learn their patterns.”
Strong as they were, werewolves hardly crossed paths with vampires. They each had their own territories, and hardly ever mingled be it for better or for worse. As a result, Liam did not have practical combat experience against them.
But that didn’t mean he was about to lose to a mere vampire.
