The Valtier hunting grounds sprawled before us like a cathedral of shadow and moss, its primordial depths untouched by centuries of civilization. 

This was no mere diversion but a sacrament—a ritual whereby the old bloodlines displayed their dominion over both beast and lesser mortals. 

The forest itself seemed to pulse with ancestral memory, each gnarled oak bearing witness to generations of such dark festivities.

Carriages lined the forest's edge like funeral cortège, their lacquered ...