The Blood That Binds

The scent of blood lingered in the air, rich and intoxicating. Anne clenched her fists, trying to steady herself as her fangs ached with a need she didn't understand. The fire in her veins had always been a part of her, but this... this was different.

Her dragon blood roared for dominance, but her vampiric instincts whispered of hunger. A thirst that had been dormant until now.

Rhael watched her with quiet amusement. "You feel it, don't you?" he murmured. "The hunger. The power. The truth of what you are."

Anne forced herself to breathe, to focus. "I'm not like you."

Rhael chuckled, a sound full of centuries-old arrogance. "No, you're not. You're something far worse." He took a slow step forward, his crimson eyes glinting under the moonlight. "You think you can suppress it, but the Dragire is not a creature of halves. It is the perfect predator."

The words slithered into her mind like a curse. Perfect predator. Was that all she was meant to be? A beast forged from two warring species, belonging to neither?

Anne's breath hitched as Rhael circled her. "You don't even know the history you carry in your blood. Do you know why dragons and vampires have been at war for centuries?"

She had heard the stories before. Myths passed down in whispers. The war between the two species had raged for generations, a conflict built on power, betrayal, and a struggle for dominance. But the truth? That had always been buried beneath blood and dust.

Anne narrowed her eyes. "Tell me."

Rhael smirked. "The war didn't start because of hatred, Anne. It started because of fear."

Anne swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Vampires and dragons were never meant to exist together," Rhael continued. "One rules the sky, the other the shadows. But there was once a time when they coexisted—when they were forced to."

Anne's brows furrowed. "Forced?"

Rhael leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Dragons and vampires once had a fragile truce, but it wasn't built on peace. It was built on necessity. Long ago, there was a sickness—a curse, if you will—that threatened both our kinds. It devoured dragons from within and turned vampires into mindless husks. And so, an uneasy alliance was formed."

Anne listened intently, every fiber of her being telling her she needed to hear this.

"But alliances born of desperation never last," Rhael murmured. "When the sickness faded, so did the need for peace. What remained was the realization that neither side could afford to let the other exist. Dragons feared the cunning of vampires. Vampires feared the overwhelming power of dragons. And so, the war began."

Anne's mind reeled. A war built on survival, not hatred. A war where she, a Dragire, should not exist.

"You are a creature that should never have been," Rhael whispered, as if reading her thoughts. "A mistake. Or perhaps... the key to ending it all."

Anne stepped back, shaking her head. "No."

"Oh, but yes," Rhael said with a wicked grin. "You are the perfect combination of everything both sides fear. And tell me, Anne—" his gaze flickered to her trembling hands, "—how long will it be before you prove them right?"

The hunger clawed at her throat, and for the first time, Anne wasn't sure she had an answer.