~Selena POV~
The city never slept, but it bled. Manila at night was a beast of its own—neon lights flickering like half-dead fireflies, alleys smelling of sweat, gasoline, and secrets nobody dared name. I knew these streets like the scars on my body. Every corner, every shadow, was dangerous, but I was more dangerous.
I was born a wolf. My pack ruled the old districts long before skyscrapers clawed at the sky, long before vampires started infesting our borders with their silk suits and sharp teeth. We were enemies by nature. Wolves hunted together. Vampires bled us dry one by one.
And yet… one saved me once.
I never told anyone.
I was nineteen when it happened, running from hunters with silver bullets and holy water. My own pack had scattered, my lungs shredded from the chase. I collapsed behind a crumbling church wall, waiting for death. That's when he appeared. Pale skin, eyes like storm-drenched midnight. A vampire. I should've snapped his neck. Instead, I let him lift me into his arms and carry me into the dark. He fought off the hunters with nothing but shadow and fury, and for a moment, I thought he might devour me too. But he didn't. He left me alive, trembling, ruined.
And I hated him for it.
I hated him for haunting me, for the way his face never left my dreams.
Tonight, five years later, I saw him again.
He leaned against the entrance of a shuttered nightclub, dressed in black like sin itself. The rain slicked his hair back, glistening over cheekbones too sharp to belong to anyone mortal. Those same storm-dark eyes found me in the crowd. Recognition hit me like claws to the gut.
"You." The word ripped out of me before I could stop it.
He smiled slow, like a predator that had finally cornered prey it had been waiting years for. "Hello, little wolf."
My fists clenched. "Don't call me that."
"You've grown." His gaze swept over me—not just my body, but deeper, as though he could see the beast pacing inside my skin. "Stronger. Wilder. Beautiful."
The nerve of him. The fucking arrogance. My body tensed, ready to fight. But underneath the rage, heat pooled low in my belly. The same traitorous heat I'd felt five years ago when he touched me and didn't kill me.
I should have turned away. Should have gone back to my pack's safehouse and pretended I never saw him. But my feet betrayed me, carrying me closer, until the rain soaked through my jacket and I could smell him. Not blood. Not rot. But something dark and intoxicating—like midnight wine and ashes.
"What are you doing here?" My voice cracked more than I liked.
His smile faded, leaving his expression raw, almost serious. "Waiting for you."
The air between us snapped, heavy as a storm about to break.
I shook my head, laughing bitterly. "You're insane. Wolves and vampires don't mix."
"Then why," he whispered, stepping closer, "have you been dreaming of me for five years?"
My chest tightened. My breath caught. And when he brushed a strand of wet hair from my face, the dam inside me broke.
I shoved him back against the cold metal door, snarling, "I hate you."
His mouth curved in that dangerous smile again. "Prove it."
And then I kissed him. Or maybe he kissed me. Maybe we crashed together, teeth and lips colliding, rain drenching us both as if the whole city wanted to wash us clean of sin. His mouth was rough, hungry, tasting like wine and night. My claws scraped against his shirt, tearing fabric, desperate to feel skin.
He growled—a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through me—and yanked me flush against him. His hands were everywhere: gripping my ass, sliding up my spine, tangling in my hair. My body betrayed me, arching into him, aching with a hunger I'd denied too long.
We stumbled inside the abandoned club, door slamming shut behind us. The air smelled of dust and old whiskey, but I didn't care. He pushed me against the wall, mouth on my throat, biting—not breaking skin, just teasing, making me gasp.
"Fuck," I hissed, tugging his hair, forcing his mouth lower.
His fangs grazed my collarbone, and I should've felt fear. Instead, my panties were soaked.
"Say my name," he murmured against my skin.
"I don't even know your name."
He laughed, low and dangerous. "Then scream it when I make you come."
My knees nearly buckled.
He ripped open my blouse, baring my breasts, and his mouth was on me—tongue flicking over a nipple, sucking hard enough to make me cry out. I arched into him, grinding against the hard length pressing through his pants.
"More," I demanded, shameless. "Don't stop."
He lifted me easily, pinning me against the wall, my legs wrapped around his waist. His cock pressed against me through layers of wet clothes, driving me insane. I clawed at his shirt until it shredded, exposing smooth, hard muscle I wanted to sink my teeth into.
When his hand slid down, shoving my panties aside, his fingers plunged into me without hesitation. I gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, the stretch delicious and brutal. He worked me open, fast, relentless, thumb circling my clit until I was writhing, moaning, biting his neck like I wanted to mark him as mine.
"You're soaked for me," he growled, voice rough, eyes glowing faintly red in the dark. "Say you hate me now."
"I do," I panted, grinding against his hand. "I hate you—ahh, fuck—"
My body shattered around his fingers, orgasm tearing through me, raw and violent. I screamed, clung to him, my whole body trembling.
But he wasn't finished. Not even close.
He freed his cock, thick and hard, and shoved inside me in one brutal thrust. I cried out, half in pain, half in desperate pleasure, walls clenching around him as he filled me. He slammed into me, each thrust deep, punishing, as if he wanted to fuck the hate right out of me.
And maybe he did. Because I met him, claw for claw, thrust for thrust, riding him like the enemy I could never resist.
The abandoned club echoed with our moans, our growls, the sound of skin slapping against skin. I didn't care who heard. I didn't care about the pack, about the war, about anything but this raw, filthy need consuming me.
When release came again, it tore through me harder, leaving me gasping his name even though I swore I wouldn't.
His lips brushed my ear, voice dark and victorious. "You're mine now, little wolf."
And deep down, I knew I just gave myself to a vampire... the very thing my pack we kill me for.