The Final Days

The moon was high above the trees, its pale light barely cutting through the thick canopy. Xavier crouched low against the damp forest floor, every muscle in his body tensed. The sounds of the night stretched around him—the rustling of leaves, the distant chirp of insects, and the rhythmic thrumming of a heartbeat just ahead.

The lynx was close.

Its scent was sharp, mingling with the damp earth and pine. Xavier inhaled deeply, his senses flaring, locking onto the animal's location. His eyes flicked toward the shadows where it lurked, hidden among the brush. A few months ago, he never would have noticed it.

Now, he could feel it.

The predator was waiting. Watching. It knew he was here.

But what the lynx didn't know?

It wasn't the only predator tonight.

Xavier's fingers dug into the dirt as he moved, his body a blur of silent motion. The lynx hissed, muscles coiling, ready to spring away. But Xavier was faster.

He lunged, his body acting before his mind could catch up. The lynx lashed out, claws raking across his forearm, but the pain barely registered. He caught it mid-leap, their bodies colliding in a tangle of limbs and instinct.

The animal twisted, snarling, its sharp teeth snapping just shy of his face. Xavier growled—actually growled—his grip tightening as he pinned the creature to the ground.

For a moment, the lynx fought.

Then its body stilled.

The moment the struggle ended, the hunger swelled inside him, roaring louder than before.

Xavier's chest rose and fell, his breath ragged. His fangs ached, burning with need. His hands trembled as he lowered his mouth to the creature's throat, his lips brushing against warm, thrumming flesh.

One bite.

Just one.

Then the pain would be gone.

His fangs sank in.

The rush was immediate.

The power hit him like a storm, raw and untamed. He felt it surge through his limbs, agility, speed, a predatory grace he hadn't possessed before. The lynx's essence bled into him, its instincts fusing with his own.

His heartbeat slowed.

His movements sharpened.

For the next forty-eight hours, he would move like a lynx.

And then, just as quickly as it had come, the hunger vanished.

Xavier pulled back, breath heavy, his hands shaking as the world around him snapped into clarity. Every sound, every shift in the wind, every flicker of movement in the darkness—it all made sense.

For the first time, he felt alive.

The Nature of Blood

They walked back toward Zander's house, their boots crunching against the fallen leaves. The night stretched quiet around them, but Xavier's mind wasn't.

After a few moments, he spoke.

"Tell me again," he said, "about the difference between animal blood and…" He hesitated. "Everything else."

Zander sighed. "You already know the answer."

"Humor me."

Zander glanced at him, then exhaled. "Fine. Animal blood is just fuel. It gives you temporary enhancements—speed, strength, heightened reflexes—but it doesn't stay."

"Forty-eight hours," Xavier muttered.

"Right," Zander confirmed. "But blood from humans, elves, Kajit, or Dwarves? That's permanent."

Xavier swallowed hard.

Permanent.

It was something Zander had only revealed after weeks of intense training. The knowledge had unsettled him at first, but the logic of it was undeniable.

Vampires absorbed more than just life from their prey.

They absorbed essence.

When drinking from a higher being, the skills and talents of that individual became a permanent part of them. A swordsman's precision, a tracker's instincts, a spellcaster's magic, all of it could be taken, grafted into their own abilities, growing like roots from a single tree.

And more than that…

"If a vampire drinks from multiple people with similar skills," Xavier murmured, "those skills combine, don't they?"

Zander nodded. "That's called Synergy."

Xavier's stomach tightened.

He had spent months perfecting control, learning how to fight back the hunger, mastering breathing, meditation, the art of the hunt.

But nothing prepared him for this.

"If I drank from a warrior," Xavier said slowly, "I'd gain their skill in combat. But if I drank from three warriors?"

"Their experience would merge within you," Zander said. "You wouldn't just be copying a skill—you'd be enhancing it, blending it into something new."

Xavier exhaled.

That was power.

True power.

And for the first time, he understood why the Elves feared them.

Then, just as Xavier thought the conversation was over, Zander continued, his voice calm but firm.

"You won't need to kill them, you know."

Xavier blinked, his head snapping toward Zander. "What?"

Zander gave him a sideways glance. "You think feeding means killing? That's the old way. That's what the Elves want you to believe."

Xavier frowned. "Then how—"

"Vampires have a skill," Zander said. "A natural ability—one that comes to us instinctively but must be honed before it can be used properly. It's called Vampire's Gaze."

Xavier narrowed his eyes. "What does it do?"

Zander smirked. "It's our version of control. When used correctly, you can place a person into a trance. They won't resist. They won't feel pain. And when it's over, they won't even remember it happened."

Xavier's pulse quickened.

"So, if I feed from someone—"

"They'll wake up feeling a little tired. Maybe a little hazy. But that's it."

Xavier stared at him.

He had spent months dreading the idea of killing, of losing control, of becoming a monster.

And now Zander was telling him that he didn't have to?

His thoughts swirled with possibilities, but one stuck out above the rest.

"That means," Xavier murmured, "a vampire could feed off multiple people without anyone knowing."

Zander nodded. "Exactly."

Xavier swallowed. This… changed everything.

The power to feed, to gain skills, knowledge, magic, without ever killing. Without ever leaving a trace.

No wonder the Elves feared them.

Xavier exhaled. "When do I start training?"

Zander smirked. "Tomorrow."

Xavier's stomach clenched. "On who?"

Zander stopped walking, turning to face him fully. His eyes were unreadable. "Kayla."

Xavier stiffened. "Wait, what?"

"You won't be feeding on her," Zander clarified. "But you will be using Vampire's Gaze on her."

Xavier frowned. "Why her?"

Zander shrugged. "She's willing. And let's be honest, she's the only one here who won't be afraid to tell you exactly how badly you screw up."

Xavier let out a slow breath. That… actually made sense.

Still, the idea of testing something like that on Kayla—on Zander's sister, on the one person who seemed to enjoy getting under his skin at every opportunity—made him uneasy.

"And if I fail?" Xavier asked.

Zander gave him a humorless smile. "Then we'll have a very big problem."

Xavier exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair.

"Wait," Xavier said after a moment. "Kayla's eighteen. She hasn't gone through the change yet. Won't that make her... vulnerable to this?"

Zander nodded. "Exactly. Right now, she's still technically human. That means Vampire's Gaze will work on her."

Xavier frowned. "And after she turns twenty-one?"

"Once a vampire begins the awakening, the Gaze doesn't work on them anymore," Zander explained. "And full vampires? Completely immune. That's why we can't use it against each other."

Xavier processed this. It made sense. Vampires weren't meant to control their own kind, just the weaker races.

The Elves didn't just fear their strength. They feared the ability to control entire populations without anyone realizing it.

"Kayla agreed to this?" Xavier asked.

Zander smirked. "You know Kayla. She doesn't back down from a challenge. And she's eager to see if you can actually pull it off."

Xavier sighed. This was going to be a disaster.

Tomorrow, he would be learning how to bend human will to his own.

And soon after that, he'd have to decide what to do with that power.

The Threshold of Change

By the time they returned home, dawn was creeping over the horizon. The sky had begun shifting from inky black to deep indigo, tinged with streaks of gold.

Xavier dropped onto the steps of the porch, stretching out his legs. Zander stood nearby, watching the sky, arms crossed.

"You feel different," Zander noted.

Xavier glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

Zander studied him, his sharp gaze unwavering. "You're calmer."

Xavier scoffed. "I've had four months to get used to this."

"Doesn't mean you weren't fighting it."

Xavier sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I still am."

Zander smirked. "Less than before, though."

Xavier frowned but didn't argue. He hated to admit it, but Zander was right.

The panic he once felt—the fear of losing control, the fear of what he was becoming—it wasn't gone, but it wasn't suffocating anymore.

He was still afraid.

But now?

Now he was also curious.

He had spent months fighting the hunger, training his body, learning what it meant to be a predator.

And soon, in just two weeks…

The true test would begin.

"You ready for it?" Zander asked.

Xavier didn't answer right away. He stared at the horizon, at the rising sun, at the world that would never be the same again.

Finally, he spoke.

"I don't think it matters."

Zander raised an eyebrow.

Xavier's gaze darkened.

"It's happening whether I'm ready or not."

And deep down, a part of him was beginning to wonder—

When the time came, when the hunger fully awakened…