The wind changed.
It came like a kiss across Mira's neck—cold, scented with ash and rust. The jungle fell eerily still, every bird silent, every leaf holding its breath. Then came the scent—her scent—rising off her skin like a siren's cry, soaked in fear, adrenaline, and something ancient now awakened inside her blood.
It was the moon's doing.
Not just any moon—a Blood Moon.
Hung low in the sky, it burned crimson, veiled in clouds like a god's furious eye. And beneath its gaze, Mira's blood sang. Warm. Thrumming. Calling.
Every creature with fangs heard it.
Her body trembled as the first pair of glowing eyes flashed from the underbrush. Then another. And another. Low growls filled the night air, circling her like wolves around prey. Snarls. Feral whispers. Hunger. She was no longer just a girl. She was a beacon.
"Not now," she whispered, backing away slowly. "Not now—please, not now…"
They emerged from the trees—dozens of vampires. Wild, unbound, their clothes torn by thorns and time. Their eyes glowed with madness, their fangs slick with saliva.
"She's bleeding moonlight," one hissed.
"I can smell the legacy in her veins," another crooned, licking his lips.
"She's not marked… not claimed…"
"But she's bound," a female vampire whispered with envy. "To the Lords."
"She doesn't wear their mark—she's still flesh. She's ours."
"No," Mira said, louder this time, stepping back. "Stay away—"
But her voice was shaking.
She turned—and ran.
Branches whipped her face. Roots tangled her feet. Her lungs burned, and the jungle pressed in from all sides. Her body was on fire, pulsing with heat that didn't belong to her. The scent only grew stronger, betrayal blooming from her pores. Her blood wanted to be tasted. Her body wanted to be hunted.
No. No. I am not prey.
The mansion's spires appeared through the trees, dark and looming like a forgotten god's cathedral. Every instinct screamed to turn back—but she didn't care.
"I'll take darkness over death," she panted, stumbling through the iron gates.
As her feet hit the black marble floor of the entrance hall, she collapsed to her knees, chest heaving. The doors slammed shut behind her on their own.
And then—silence.
Until… whispers returned.
Not human whispers. Not alone.
The wild vampires had followed.
They hissed from the woods outside the gate, clawing at the iron, shrieking like banshees.
"She's inside…!"
"Take her before they come…!"
The great hall began to darken, shadows stretching, crawling like black serpents across the floor.
Mira knew this mansion was no haven.
But then—
BOOM.
The air cracked like thunder. A wind surged inward. And from the second-floor balcony, they appeared.
The Four Lords.
Varek stood front and center, golden eyes burning like hellfire. His jaw clenched as he surveyed the crowd beyond the gates.
"They dare to come this close," he growled, his voice a blade.
Kaelen leaned casually on the railing beside him, smirking. "Our little flame has woken the wolves."
Lucien's eyes landed on Mira below. His expression darkened. "She shouldn't have run."
"She didn't choose this," Darian said softly—his blood-red gaze focused not with cruelty, but something unreadable.
The front gates rattled again.
Varek's voice dropped, deadly. "Kaelen."
Kaelen sighed. "Fine."
In a blink, he vanished from the balcony.
Mira gasped as he reappeared outside the gate, landing in the grass like a shadow given flesh. He raised his hand lazily—and the ground split. A blast of black magic surged forward, sending half the wild vampires flying.
"Leave," he said, voice dripping with venom. "You touch what belongs to us, and you will not survive the night."
"She's unmarked!" one howled. "You haven't claimed her!"
Lucien's voice answered from within the mansion, echoing like thunder. "Not yet. But she bleeds with our bond. That makes her ours."
"You don't deserve her!" another spat. "She's a moon-child! She's sacred!"
"She's a curse," Varek answered coldly, now standing at the doors. "And she's ours to suffer."
One vampire lunged.
Darian blurred—there one second, gone the next—and the vampire's body fell in half, sliced clean through.
Mira's body flinched.
And then…
Every remaining vampire bowed.
The jungle seemed to sink in silence.
The four Lords stepped forward together, like kings risen from nightmares, and the invaders stepped back into the dark, vanishing one by one.
The gates sealed themselves.
Mira was still on the floor, shaking. She looked up—into Lucien's stormy eyes as he knelt in front of her.
"You smell like death," he said. "Like temptation."
"I didn't mean to…"
Darian helped her up, brushing a leaf from her hair. "The Blood Moon awakens what your family buried. This isn't the last time this will happen."
Varek walked past them all. "She's a liability."
"She's ours," Kaelen corrected, appearing beside Mira, brushing a knuckle down her throat. "And you'll protect what's yours… won't you?"
Mira looked up at the four of them.
They hated her.
And yet—every vampire in the forest had bowed before them. Had bowed… for her.
And something in her blood pulsed, deep and dark.
Power.
Bound. Feared. Wanted.
The Blood Moon was only the beginning.