Virella woke to the sound of growling.
It wasn't in her room, nor even in the house. It was inside her.
Her dreams had been strange—visions of a great black wolf standing in a sea of blood, and of her hands, claws extended, soaked in crimson. She jolted awake with the ghost of a snarl in her throat.
The moon outside was full, too low in the sky for comfort. The light hit her skin like a cold whisper, coaxing something from within. Her bones ached—not from pain, but from change.
Her humanity was slipping. She could feel it in her soul.
---
Downstairs, the estate was quiet except for the ticking of the ancient grandfather clock in the hallway. She passed portraits of her ancestors—none of whom could understand what she was becoming. She wasn't human anymore. She wasn't just a vampire either.
She was something else entirely.
In the garden, standing in the moonlight, was Alaric. Shirtless, with blood streaked across his arms and chest, he looked like a myth reborn. His back was turned, but he spoke without looking.
"You felt it too, didn't you?"
Virella stepped forward cautiously. "The pull of the full moon."
"The hybrid blood in you is awakening faster than I expected," he said, finally turning to face her. "You'll shift soon."
"I'm not ready," she admitted, hugging herself.
"No one ever is."
She tilted her head. "You didn't tell me it would be like this."
"I didn't want to scare you."
"Too late," she said. But her voice held no malice. Only awe.
He stepped closer, brushing a hand across her cheek. "It's not a curse, Virella. You're evolution. The old world can't contain us anymore. We are the next chapter."
"And who decides what that chapter looks like?" she asked, eyes narrowing. "You?"
His hand fell. "If I don't… they will."
---
The next day at school, Midnight High buzzed with new gossip. Strange animal sightings near the forest. Missing animals. The return of a tall, beautiful stranger with eyes like cold steel.
Virella didn't need to ask who they were whispering about.
Lucien had arrived.
He stood near the parking lot like he owned the world, dressed in a long black coat, his white-blond hair catching the sunlight. His gaze swept the students like a predator among prey.
When he locked eyes with Virella, she felt her blood freeze.
"So you're the girl," he said smoothly, stepping toward her. "The one my brother chose."
She tensed. "And you're the one he doesn't talk about."
"Because he's ashamed of what I know." Lucien smiled, but there was nothing kind in it. "Tell me—do you actually trust him?"
Virella opened her mouth, but a voice cut in.
"She trusts him more than she trusts you."
It was Callum, Rian's older brother.
He leaned against the school's stone pillar like he hadn't just delivered a line worthy of a vampire-western showdown.
Lucien raised a brow. "And you are?"
"Someone who's not scared of you."
Lucien's gaze narrowed. "You should be."
"Maybe. But I'm not," Callum said coolly. "Because I don't play games. And I don't kneel."
Virella stepped between them. "Enough."
Lucien's smile returned. "You'll learn, little hybrid. There's no 'enough' when it comes to Alaric's world. There's only what you're willing to sacrifice."
And with that, he walked away, leaving the scent of winter and blood behind him.
---
Later that evening, Callum found Virella by the old bridge outside town.
"You okay?" he asked, sitting beside her.
"I don't know," she said honestly. "I thought becoming something more would give me answers. But it's only made things messier."
"Power doesn't bring clarity," Callum said. "It brings chaos. And everyone wants a piece of it."
Virella studied him. His presence was grounding—like solid earth beneath the storm.
"Why do you help me?" she asked.
He looked at her, eyes steady. "Because you didn't ask for any of this. And because my brother's in too deep to see the cliff he's running toward."
"You don't think Alaric's right?"
"I think he's dangerous. And brilliant. And broken," Callum said. "And I think you're the only one who makes him feel anything real."
She turned her face toward him. "And if I said I feel something for you, too?"
He didn't move, didn't blink. But his voice dropped an octave.
"Then I'd say that's the most dangerous thing of all."
---
Back in the woods, Lucien met with his father in a broken cathedral covered in ivy and shadow.
"She's stronger than we thought," Lucien said. "She's not afraid of me."
"Then she's a threat," said the vampire lord, whose name was forbidden even in vampire circles. "Kill her."
Lucien shook his head. "No. Not yet. She's more useful alive. We can use her to break Alaric from the inside."
"Don't make the same mistake your mother did," the vampire lord growled. "Sentiment is weakness."
Lucien lowered his gaze. "So is underestimating hybrids."
His father stood. "Gather the old bloodlines. The Night Council must convene."
"We're going to war, then?"
"No," said the vampire king. "We already are."
---
That night, Virella stood at the edge of the forest. Her hands trembled, not from fear—but from instinct.
She looked to the moon and whispered, "What am I becoming?"
Behind her, the shadows moved.
And the wolves began to howl.
---