Chapter 1
Darkness swallowed the forest whole. Only the thinnest sliver of moonlight pierced through, casting ghostly shadows across the twisted path. Not even a whisper of wind disturbed the suffocating silence. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay, thick with an tension that made every shadow seem alive.
CRASH!
Eugene's body slammed against the ancient oak with bone-jarring force. All six feet and three inches of him shuddered from the impact, but the agony radiating through his frame was nothing—nothing—compared to the blade buried deep in his ribs.
Fire lanced through his flesh where the steel bit deep. Despite the torture coursing through every nerve, his grip only tightened on his attacker's throat. Ice-blue eyes blazed with murderous intent as he stared at the hooded figure before him.
"Does it hurt?"
The voice that whispered against his ear was like rusted metal scraping bone—a sound that belonged in nightmares. Cold laughter followed, accompanied by breath that reeked of something long dead.
"A human hunting vampires..." The creature's amusement was palpable. "How... fascinating."
Eugene's jaw clenched. No words—only action. His voice came out as a growl.
"What the hell are you?"
In one explosive motion, he drove his shoulder forward, sending the figure flying backward into another tree. But the impact that should have shattered bone barely made his opponent flinch. From beneath that shadow-draped hood came a sound of pure mockery.
"Me?" The voice dripped with theatrical amusement. "I'm exactly what you've been hunting for, little human."
The words hit Eugene like a physical blow. "Impossible—"
His moment of shock was all the creature needed. The blade twisted deeper, finding new pathways of agony.
A strangled gasp tore from Eugene's throat as blood painted his lips crimson. Black veins spider-webbed across his skin like cracks in broken glass. The vampire's laughter rang through the forest—rich, delighted, savoring every drop of pain.
Eugene's hands trembled as they found the knife's hilt. Through gritted teeth and a face carved from pure agony, he ripped the blade free and hurled it into the darkness. His legs gave way, threatening to dump him in the dirt, but somehow—somehow—he stayed upright. Blood poured from the wound like a crimson waterfall.
Through vision blurred with pain, he locked eyes with his tormentor. Every breath was a battle now. The vampire studied him with the detached interest of a scientist examining a particularly intriguing specimen.
"How disappointing." The creature shook its head with mock sympathy. "All those stories about the legendary vampire hunter, and this is what I find? A broken little boy who can barely stand."
Leather-gloved fingers tilted Eugene's chin up, forcing eye contact. "I came expecting entertainment, but you're just... ordinary."
But even as the words left its lips, something flickered behind those hidden eyes. This should be over. Any human taking damage like this should be a corpse by now. Yet here Eugene stood, fury burning brighter than his pain, refusing to fall.
The vampire's head tilted. "What are you?"
Before Eugene could answer, fangs flashed in the moonlight.
CRUNCH!
The scream that tore from Eugene's throat was pure animal agony. Obsidian veins erupted across his pale skin like lightning, and his ice-blue eyes blazed gold. With strength born of desperation, he drove both hands into the creature's chest and sent it flying.
Eugene staggered, one hand pressed to his ravaged throat, watching as the vampire casually wiped blood from its lips with the back of one hand.
"Eugene Alberesque."
The sound of his own name from that mouth ignited something volcanic in Eugene's chest. The bastard had tasted his memories, stolen his identity from his very blood. Meanwhile, Eugene couldn't even see the face of his family's destroyer.
The vampire's delighted laughter filled the clearing as it took in Eugene's transformed features.
"Well, well, well..." Arms spread wide in theatrical appreciation. "Half-human, half-vampire—and twins, no less! This is delicious."
Nine centuries of existence, and this was a first. Pure vampires withered under sunlight's touch—even he required the blood-ruby ring on his finger to walk in daylight, a gift from a witch long dead. But these abominations were born with immunity, blessed with the one thing he'd kill for.
The jealousy was a living thing, gnawing at his dead heart.
"Your brother embraces what he is," the vampire mused, circling like a predator. "Feeds properly. Lives as he should. But you?" A laugh like breaking glass. "You play human."
"I am human." Eugene's voice was steady steel.
The vampire threw back its head and howled with laughter. "Human? Oh, you precious thing! If you were human, you'd be painting these trees red by now."
Eugene's hands curled into fists. The truth burned, but he couldn't deny it.
"You should be grateful," the creature continued, voice silk over razors. "I gave you eternal life. My power is the only reason you're still breathing."
"Grateful?" Eugene's laugh was bitter as winter. He dragged fingers through blood-matted hair, golden eyes burning with rage. "You destroyed everything I loved. Made my brother and me into monsters. And you want gratitude?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Go to hell."
The vampire's smile widened. How long since anything had amused him this much? This half-breed was weak—survived only on animal blood like some pathetic vegetarian. He posed no real threat. But oh, the entertainment value...
"Such fire," it purred. "I do hope you survive long enough to make good on that promise."
Eugene's vision swam, darkness creeping in at the edges. The vampire leaned closer, that terrible smile never wavering.
"But first, you have to make it through the night. Pleasant dreams, little hunter."
The creature melted into shadow, gone as if it had never existed.
Eugene's knees finally gave out. He caught himself against rough bark, head spinning, the forest blurring in and out of focus. The wound in his side was deeper than he'd thought—maybe deeper than he could survive.
The hunger rose like a tide, vampire instincts clawing at what remained of his humanity. His golden eyes swept the empty forest, finding nothing. No deer. No rabbits. Nothing with blood in its veins.
"Damn it..."
His gaze drifted toward the distant village lights, warm and inviting through the trees. He'd sworn never to feed on humans. Had kept that promise for years, surviving on scraps and animal blood while his brother reveled in what they were.
But promises meant nothing to a dying man.
Eugene pushed himself upright, jaw set with grim determination. The monster was out there somewhere, probably laughing at how easily he'd been broken. But Eugene would heal. He would hunt. And when they met again...
Taking a breath that rattled in his chest, Eugene gathered what strength remained and vanished into the night.
Reginu Village
"Thank God for small miracles," Leah muttered, clutching her basket like a lifeline. The Cottage cheese had been the last wedge in old Henrik's shop, and without it, her cousin Beth's morning would be absolutely ruined.
Not that Beth's moods were Leah's responsibility. Technically.
"Papanasi(a Romanian cheese-filled doughnut) at dawn," she grumbled, picking her way through the village's narrow streets. "Because heaven forbid she mention this craving before the shops closed. Does she think cheese just materializes out of thin air?"
But even as irritation bubbled in her chest, Leah quickened her pace. Beth was spoiled, yes—raised as the precious only daughter while Leah scrubbed floors and minded an autistic brother. But they had a roof over their heads, and David was safe, and that had to be enough.
It always had to be enough.
The familiar ache settled in her chest as memories surfaced unbidden. Ten years since the accident that took her parents—the beloved Count and Countess reduced to nothing more than names on tombstones and a faded photograph in her locket. She'd been ten, David barely two and already showing signs that something was different about him.
Their aunt's solution had been simple: orphanages. Separate ones, naturally, because who wanted to deal with a damaged child?
Leah had begged. Pleaded on her knees like something out of a fairy tale, promising anything—everything—if they could just stay together. Her aunt had agreed, but the price was steep: earn your keep, or get out.
Nine years of playing servant in her own family's house. Nine years of pre-dawn mornings and aching backs and biting her tongue when Beth complained about perfectly good meals. Nine years of sleeping in the attic and pretending it didn't matter.
But David was safe. Fed. Cared for. And if that meant Leah sacrificed her own childhood, well—some prices were worth paying.
"When Mom and Dad aren't here anymore, you take care of your brother. Promise me, Leah."
Her mother's last words, spoken before that final business trip that became anything but routine. Leah's fingers found her locket automatically, thumb tracing the worn silver.
I'm trying, Mama. I'm trying so hard.
Nineteen next month. Old enough, maybe, to convince her aunt that she could manage on her own. Find a little cottage somewhere, take David with her, build something that resembled a real life...
The moon hung fat and silver overhead, casting everything in shades of blue and black. Leah pulled her shawl tighter and turned into the alley that would cut her journey home by half.
She never saw it coming.
CRASH!
One moment she was walking; the next, the world exploded into chaos. Something solid—impossibly solid—materialized out of nowhere, sending her stumbling backward. Her basket went flying, precious cheese scattering across the cobblestones like scattered coins.
"Ugh—!"