Fire at the gas station

The necklace around my neck pulsed faintly, a constant reminder of the mate I was tracking. It had been pointing east for two days straight, offering no more information than the direction I needed to follow. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep me moving.

I leaned against the metal post outside a run-down gas station, exhaustion settling deep in my bones. The human world was polluted, its air thick with gasoline, asphalt, and chemicals that clung to my skin. It was nothing like the crisp, clean air of White Stone Pack. The longer I stayed outside our lands, the more I craved the quiet of the forest, the grounding presence of home.

Ronan was inside, arguing with the cashier about something I didn't care to listen in on. He was taking his time, probably flirting or being a general nuisance, while I tried to settle the nausea rolling through my stomach. 

The feeling of unease settled over me before I heard the voice.

"What's a little wolf like you doing here all alone?"

The voice was smooth but carried a hollow emptiness, something unnatural and cold. My body tensed at the scent that followed, a mix of old blood and decay. Vampire.

I turned slowly, my eyes landing on four figures just beyond the flickering gas station lights. They were tall, lean, and predatory, their eyes glowing faintly in the dim glow. I could hear the barely restrained hunger in their breathing, the way they stood close together like a pack of scavengers waiting for a fresh meal.

I sighed, rolling my shoulders. This was the third group of vampires I had encountered in two days. It was starting to feel less like coincidence and more like someone was keeping track of my movements.

"I have more reason to be here than walking corpses like yourselves," I said, my tone flat and unimpressed.

The leader, a tall one with a leather jacket that had long since gone out of style, narrowed his eyes. His lips curled back, revealing elongated fangs as his fingers twitched at his sides. The others reacted just as predictably—one of them let out a soft hiss, a woman with blood-red lips and nails that looked more like claws. The bald brute beside her cracked his knuckles, while the fourth, a man with a deceptively pretty face, simply tilted his head, observing me like I was an unusual puzzle.

The bald one was the first to speak. "Cocky little bitch," he growled. "I say we drain her."

I exhaled slowly, my patience already thin. "You can try."

The moment the words left my mouth, they lunged.

They were fast.

But I was faster.

The first one reached me in a blink, his hands outstretched, aiming to grab me before I could react. But I was already moving. I stepped to the side, fluid and precise, letting his momentum carry him forward. My claws extended in the same instant, and with a single swipe, I severed his head from his body.

He hit the ground in two pieces, his body twitching before falling still.

The second vampire, the woman with the painted lips, barely hesitated before slashing at me with her own set of claws. I caught her wrist mid-swing, twisting it until I heard a sickening crack. She let out a scream, but I silenced her by slamming the side of her head into the gas station post. Blood splattered across the rusted metal, and she slumped to the ground.

Two down.

The bald brute took advantage of the distraction and swung at me. He was stronger than the others—I could feel it in the way the air shifted around his punch. But I had been raised by an Alpha, trained to be faster, more precise. I ducked beneath his swing, using his own weight against him as I pivoted and drove my knee into his gut.

He staggered but recovered quickly, letting out a furious snarl before charging again. This time, I didn't dodge. Instead, I met his attack head-on, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him backward. My claws dug deep, cutting through muscle and bone, and with one swift motion, I tore his throat out.

The fourth vampire, the one who had remained still the entire time, finally reacted. He didn't attack. Instead, he simply smiled, his expression eerily calm as he watched the last of his companions fall.

"You're different," he mused, his voice filled with something close to admiration.

I stalked toward him, my breath steady, my pulse never rising above its usual rhythm. He didn't flinch as I grabbed him by the throat, slamming him against the side of a parked car.

"You're going to tell me why vampires keep crawling out of their graves to harass me," I said, my voice low, dangerous.

He laughed, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Maybe we're just hungry."

I tightened my grip, digging my claws into his skin until I felt the tendons beneath his flesh shift. "Wrong answer."

Something flickered in his eyes. He knew something.

I was about to press harder when, without warning, he bit down on his own tongue.

I jerked back just as his body convulsed violently, then, before my eyes, he collapsed into a pile of dust.

I stared at the remains, my mind racing.

This wasn't normal.

Someone was sending them.

Someone who didn't want them talking.

"What the actual fuck?"

Ronan's voice broke through the silence. I turned to see him standing outside the gas station, a half-eaten bag of chips in one hand, a soda in the other. He took in the scene—the bodies, the blood, the pile of dust—before looking back at me.

"I leave you alone for five minutes."

I wiped my hands on my shorts. "You took too long."

He scoffed, tossing his snacks into the car before walking toward the trunk. He pulled out a container of gasoline and tossed it toward me.

"Burn them. I'll distract the cashier from the fact that you're about to set headless corpses on fire in his parking lot."

I sighed, catching the container as he turned and walked back inside.

Typical.

I made quick work of dragging the bodies into a pile, pouring the gasoline over them before striking a match and tossing it in. Flames roared to life, the acrid scent of burning flesh filling the night air.

Vampires didn't always stay dead. Some of them—**the old ones, the unusual ones—**could still heal, could still come back. I'd seen it happen once before. The memory still sent a chill down my spine.

The fire burned high, reducing the bodies to nothing but ash.

I stood there for a moment, lost in thought.

Vampires had a long history of treating wolves like prey. They were manipulators, pulling strings from the shadows, ensuring their survival by weaving themselves into human politics, businesses, industries. There wasn't a single government they didn't have their claws in.

But there was a pack up north—wolves from Canada who had built a billion-dollar empire, strong enough to stand against human influence. Many doubted their decision to enter the human world so openly, but their power had protected countless smaller packs, keeping their lands safe from development.

I wondered, briefly, if they had the right idea.

The fire crackled, snapping me back to the present.

I pulled out my phone and texted Ronan.

Me: Cleanup's done. Let's go.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I exhaled, my fingers tightening around the necklace at my throat. I hadn't shifted in too long. My body ached with the need to run, to hunt. And worse, the bond inside me burned hotter with every mile.

Because when I found him, I wasn't letting him go.