Stefan
She ran.
As fast as her human legs could carry her, and smartly, into the forest.
Clever choice, for someone like her. The trees offered cover. Confusion.
But also?
She had no idea what lay beyond the safe edges of the school grounds. No idea what else shared the dark.
Nadia hissed beside me, her eyes flaring red with fury, fangs elongating as she prepared to give chase.
"She's getting away," she snapped, practically vibrating with rage.
I held her back with one hand.
"And what exactly do you plan to do when you catch her?" I asked, my voice calm, mocking. "Kill her?"
She didn't answer.
"Right. You can't wipe minds, Nadia," I added with a cold smile. "And if you chase her with that temper, you'll rip her apart before you even ask questions. Let me handle this—and keep it between us. Or I'll wipe your memory myself."
That got her.
She froze, her expression cracking with fear.
As she should.
Mind-wiping another vampire is excruciating. It's not just pain, it's like brushing against death itself.
And depending on the strength of the wiper, it can erase more than a moment.
I wasn't just capable.
I was efficient.
I'd done it before.
She didn't want to be next.
Her lips pressed into a tight line, and she stepped back, silent.
Good.
In a blur, I turned and vanished into the trees, following the scent and heat trail of Bellarose.
She was fast. Determined.
But she was human.
And she wasn't getting far.
Her scent was everywhere.
On the leaves.
On the dirt.
In the air itself.
She was running in zigzags, erratic, desperate, probably thinking it would throw me off. And for a moment, it worked.
Smart little fox.
But she was messing with the wrong predator.
I was just about to climb the trees to gain a better vantage, move faster through the canopy when something caught my attention.
A branch.
Snapped, stained red.
Clinging to it, a torn piece of white cloth.
Her blood.
Her fabric.
I dropped from the branch and picked it up.
Held it to my nose.
The scent hit me like a drug.
Not just good. Not just tempting.
Irresistible.
I hated human blood. Always had. It was sour, messy, and full of noise.
But this?
This was different.
It smelled like...
Light.
Like purity.
Like the one thing I was never supposed to have.
And then I did something I never thought I would.
I tasted it.
Just a drop. Just one.
But the moment it touched my tongue, something exploded inside me.
Fire. Electricity. Hunger. Change.
I staggered back, choking on my breath as my veins lit up, boiling from the inside out.
I dropped to my knees, clawing at the dirt.
Then it began.
The pain.
My spine snapped first.
Crack!
Bent, reformed, twisted.
My ribs followed, folding in like they were being shattered and rebuilt all at once.
Muscles tore, reknit, and expanded.
Flesh shifted.
Claws tore through my skin.
My scream was silent, buried under clenched teeth and a locked jaw as my skull cracked and reshaped. My gums bled as new teeth…fangs, forced their way in.
Every nerve lit up like I was being burned alive and frozen at once.
No control. No grace. Just agony.
A shift.
My first shift.
And when it ended, when the forest stilled, I was no longer on two legs.
I was on four.
I was no longer just a vampire.
I was a wolf.
I shouldn't be able to do this.
I was told I'd never shift. That my vampire genes were too dominant, that they'd strangled out whatever wolf blood I had. My body had always been at war with itself, cold, calculating vampirism choking out the wildness I was supposed to inherit from my father's side.
But I did it. I shifted.
How?
Was it the blood? Her blood?
I've tasted human blood before. Hundreds of times. It always repulsed me, cloying, metallic, loud. But hers... it wasn't just palatable. It was addictive. It called to something deeper inside me, something buried under centuries of ice.
What was so special about her?
And why her?
But right now, none of that mattered. Because the rush I felt, running through the forest on four legs, wasn't just physical, it was spiritual. Pure freedom. Pure being.
This... this was what it felt like to be a werewolf?
The moon wasn't even out, and yet my throat burned with the urge to howl, something raw, unfiltered, ancient.
I'd always had heightened vampire senses, but this was different. I felt connected. To the trees. The soil. The wind. Every heartbeat in the forest pulsed in my veins. I wasn't just fast, I was inevitable.
No vampire could outrun me now. Not anymore.
For a brief moment, I almost forgot what I was doing. The high of it all, the primal clarity, the new power, threatened to drown out everything else.
But then I remembered her.
Bellarose.
And I knew, with terrifying certainty, I had to find her.
No, I had to protect her.
Finding her was easy. Too easy. My new instincts didn't just track her scent, they predicted her. I knew where she'd go next before she even did. So this is how wolves hunted vampires back then... no wonder they nearly wiped us out.
Then I saw her.
She crashed into me, quite literally. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stumbled back, falling hard onto the ground, scraping her hands, and scrambling.
Wide-eyed. Terrified. Fragile.
She looked... breakable.
And for a moment, I hesitated.
I shifted.
Back to human. Back to cold skin and sharper thoughts.
Then I stepped forward, wrapping my hand around her throat, not to kill, but to stop her from screaming. From remembering.
Her fingers clawed at my arm, desperate, her crimson-tinged eyes locking with mine.
"Please...let me live," she choked.
And something inside me, something I thought was long dead, stirred.
Guilt. Compassion. Maybe even... shame.
But this was a necessary evil.
I had to wipe her memory.
For her safety.