My heart was racing so fast it felt as though it would tear its way out of my chest. I stared at the vampire with glowing red eyes standing before me.
The sight of him froze me in place. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating, and for a terrifying moment I thought this was the end for me. My whole body screamed to run away, but my legs were glued to the ground.
Then, just as suddenly as that dangerous aura had appeared, it vanished.
"Just joking," he said, flashing a boyish grin, the sharpness in his gaze melting into something deceptively light. "You get so serious over a joke."
A joke? My mouth went dry. Did he think nearly giving me a heart attack was funny? My eyes burned as they welled with tears at the thought of how close I had felt to death only a heartbeat ago.
I forced myself to look at him, but the playful curve of his lips didn't distract me from the smears of blood on his face. It dripped down the corner of his mouth, smeared across his cheek and jaw.
"Your face," I whispered, finding my voice again, "you need to tend to it."
He pointed at his cheek with a smirk, tilting his head as if amused by my concern. "Already worrying about me? That's sweet." His tone was laced with sarcasm, but his eyes held an unreadable gleam.
I clenched my fists at my side, unsure if I wanted to slap him or scream. Before I could do either, he turned his back to me.
"Let's go," Alexander said. "It seems they've left."
Only then did I realize how eerily silent everything had become. A few minutes ago, the night had been filled with chaos, screams, growls, the clash of claws and teeth—but now there was nothing. Just silence. Silence and the coppery stench of blood clinging to the air, coating my tongue when I breathed.
I followed him, hesitant but unwilling to be alone. My footsteps felt loud as we descended the staircase, and then my breath caught in my throat.
The grand hall that had once been filled with laughter, music, and beautifully dressed wolves celebrating under the moonlight had transformed into a nightmare.
Bodies. So many bodies.
The floor was drenched in blood, the marble reflecting the carnage in sickening streaks. Wolves who had been smiling only minutes ago now lay broken, twisted, lifeless. My knees buckled, and my stomach lurched at the smell.
It wasn't as if I had never seen death before. Life as a werewolf meant battles, losses, and sometimes even executions. But this… this was different. This was a massacre.
I stumbled closer to Alexander, almost hiding behind him like a child. Tears blurred my vision, but I couldn't stop scanning the room, desperate for a glimpse of familiar faces.
"Where are they?" I croaked, my voice hoarse, trembling. "Where's my family?"
Alexander turned slightly, his red eyes softening as he looked at me. He didn't answer. Instead, he reached back, his hand finding mine. His cool fingers wrapped firmly around mine, grounding me. Without a word, he pulled me away from the nightmare in the hall.
He led me down another corridor, his long strides purposeful. My heart pounded louder with every step. When he stopped before a closed door, my palms grew clammy. I pushed it open.
Inside, I found survivors. Some were seated against the wall, bloodied but alive. Others lay still on the ground, their faces pale, their wounds too deep to overcome. Cries of grief and pain filled the air, raw and unbearable.
Alexander's voice broke through the heaviness. "We need to call an ambulance."
Instinctively, I reached for my pocket only to remember I wasn't carrying anything. My clothes had been shredded during the fight with the red wolf, and I had nothing but the torn fabric on me.
Alexander, unfazed, pulled his phone from his back pocket and dialed quickly. As his low voice relayed the situation, my eyes wandered to a girl lying alone in the corner. Unlike the others, she had no one by her side.
Her hands were pressed weakly against her stomach, blood seeping through her fingers in thick, dark streams. She was young—maybe younger than me—and fading fast.
Something inside me snapped. I couldn't just stand there. Not again.
I rushed to her side and pressed my hands firmly against her wound, ignoring the sticky warmth soaking my palms. "Stay with me," I whispered, my voice breaking. "You're going to be fine."
Her eyes flickered with fear before sliding half-shut. I pressed harder, willing her to hold on.
Alexander finished his call and crouched beside me. "We need to find your father," he said, his tone clipped but calm.
"She's bleeding too much," I protested, panic clawing at my throat. "She might not make it before they arrive!"
Before he could answer, the door opened, and another vampire walked in. His eyes glowed red, but it wasn't the same as Alexander's cold, dark and emotionless ones.
"Where have you been?" Alexander asked sharply.
"The girl and her mother are safely in their rooms," the vampire reported, his voice steady. "But Mr. Thompson has been gravely injured."
The name struck me like lightning. Thompson. My father.
I jerked to my feet, my heart hammering. "My father?" I breathed.
Alexander's jaw tightened. "Take care of everyone here," he ordered the vampire, who immediately moved to replace me at the girl's side.
Without another word, Alexander turned and strode out of the room. I followed, my legs weak but fueled by desperation.
"Was he talking about my father?" I demanded, my voice cracking.
He didn't answer. His silence only twisted the fear in my chest tighter.
At the end of the corridor, Alexander opened a door. I stepped inside and froze.
"Kathy," I gasped.
My little sister sat on the bed, her eyes wide and red-rimmed. Relief crashed over me, and I ran to her, pulling her into a fierce embrace. She clung to me, sobbing into my shoulder.
"Are you okay?" I asked frantically, pulling back to inspect her. I turned her this way and that, desperate to see if she was hurt.
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I'm okay, Elena… but you're injured." Her gaze dropped to my neck, and her hand trembled as she touched me.
I swallowed hard, ignoring the sting of my wounds. "Where's Mom? Where's Dad?"
"Mom's with him," Kathy whispered, her voice breaking. "But… but Dad—"
My stomach dropped. "What about Dad?"
She sobbed harder, unable to finish. I hugged her tightly, holding her as she shook in my arms.
I wanted to cry with her, to fall apart completely, but I couldn't. Not now. She needed me to be strong.
When she finally drifted to sleep, exhausted from her tears, I tucked her into the bed and walked to the window. The night sky stared back at me, but the moon was gone. Not hidden, not obscured—gone. I thought back to the red moon I had seen earlier and shivered. What did it mean?
The door creaked open, and Donald stepped inside. He looked a bit haggard, his shirt rumpled and torn and also smeared with blood, a little testament to the brutal war he had fought earlier tonight.
He walked inside and stood before me as he stared at me without releasing my gaze. His eyes immediately went to my neck.
"You're hurt," he said, concern etched in his face.
My hand brushed over the wound instinctively. I had almost forgotten about it, though the ache pulsed sharper now that he mentioned it.
"How's Dad?" I asked, my throat tightening.
Donald walked closer, his presence steady and comforting. "He'll be fine."
"I want to see him." My voice cracked. "I need to see him."
He placed his hands gently on my shoulders. "Elena, everything is going to be okay. I promise. Your brother is here, and we'll get through this."
I bit my lip, nodding. "What about the others? The injured? Are they being taken care of?"
"They are," he assured me. "You don't need to worry."
But I did worry. The images of the hall, the lifeless faces, the blood—they were carved into my mind.
"Is it that bad that I can't see him?" I whispered.
"It is," a different voice said.
I turned. Alexander leaned casually against the doorway, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable.
Unlike Donald he seems like he just came from an hot shower, his hair was still damp, his red eyes sharper than ever. His face was glowing as if there were no blood stains on his face and a deep cut.
Wait, where is the...
"A deep cut on his back. His stomach and leg are badly injured," he interrupted my thought. "It is serious." He said with a small, almost mocking smile.
I couldn't help but feel anger consume me seeing him smile like that.
"Alexander," Donald growled warningly.
I snapped, anger flaring. "How can you smile when saying that?"
He straightened, shrugging as if it didn't matter. "Don't worry. He'll be fine."
I looked at Donald, searching for reassurance, but all I found was sorrow in his eyes.
"I need to see him for myself," I said firmly, brushing past them.
"Elena—" Donald called, but I didn't stop.
Behind me, Alexander's voice cut through the tension. "It's getting late. We need to leave."
I froze and turned back, disbelief flooding me. "Leave?"
He stepped forward, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips again. "You're coming to live with me."