Chapter 7: The Hunters' Arrival
The footsteps grew louder, steady and deliberate. The mansion itself seemed to recoil, its walls creaking as if whispering a warning. Aarav's breath was shallow, his new crimson eyes darting between Seraphina and Selene. The sisters stood poised, their expressions unreadable, but their bodies tense—ready for a fight.
Aarav swallowed hard. "Who are they?"
Seraphina's gaze remained fixed on the grand entrance. "Hunters. Killers of our kind."
Selene smirked, but there was no humor in her eyes. "And they're here for you."
Aarav's chest tightened. He had barely begun to understand what was happening to him—what he was becoming—and now there were people coming to kill him?
The massive double doors at the end of the hall groaned, then burst open with a violent crash. A cold wind howled through the mansion, extinguishing the flickering candlelight.
Three figures stepped through the threshold, clad in dark armor lined with silver. They carried weapons Aarav had only seen in movies—gleaming swords, crossbows loaded with bolts dipped in something dark and viscous.
The man in the center, tall and broad-shouldered with a scar running down his cheek, locked eyes with Aarav. His gaze was sharp, assessing, and filled with something colder than hatred—purpose.
"Kairos," he said, his voice steady, controlled. "You are an abomination. And we're here to end you before you fully awaken."
Aarav's blood turned to ice.
Selene stepped forward, her fangs bared in a wicked grin. "How bold of you to come here, hunter. Do you truly think you can take him from us?"
The man didn't flinch. He simply raised his hand, and the two hunters flanking him sprang into action.
Everything happened in a blur.
The first hunter lunged at Seraphina, his silver blade slicing through the air. She moved impossibly fast, dodging with inhuman grace before countering with a vicious swipe of her claws.
Selene engaged the second hunter, her movements fluid and deadly. The clash of steel against supernatural strength echoed through the hall.
Aarav stood frozen. His instincts screamed at him to run, but something deep inside—something ancient—urged him to fight.
Then, the scarred hunter locked onto him.
Aarav barely had time to react before the man raised his crossbow and fired.
Time slowed. The bolt sped toward him, glinting in the dim light. His body moved on its own, instincts taking over. He twisted to the side, the bolt barely grazing his shoulder, but the pain was instant—searing. The wound burned as if acid had been poured into his skin.
Silver.
Aarav staggered, clutching his shoulder. The hunter was already reloading.
"Fight back," a voice inside him whispered. "You are not prey."
His vision blurred. Heat flooded his veins.
And then, for the first time since this nightmare began, Aarav let go.
The hunger—the power—surged forward like a raging fire. His muscles tensed, his senses sharpened. When the hunter fired again, he moved faster than thought, catching the bolt midair and snapping it in his fingers.
The hunter's eyes widened.
Aarav bared his fangs.
A moment later, he lunged.
To be continued…