UNLIKELY ALLIANCES

Chapter 2

Unlikely Alliances

The streets of Paris lay cloaked in a restless hush, as if the city itself held its breath. The usual hum of life had dulled, replaced by an eerie stillness that set Lucienne on edge. She stood on a narrow bridge overlooking the Seine, her crimson eyes fixed on the water below. Something was stirring beneath the surface—not in the river, but in the veins of the city. A darkness creeping, unraveling the fragile balance of the supernatural underworld.

She felt the presence before she heard the footsteps. Slow. Measured. A deliberate intrusion.

"You have an unfortunate habit of lurking," she murmured, not bothering to turn around.

"Or maybe you've just grown complacent," Damien countered, stepping from the shadows.

Lucienne turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "To what do I owe the pleasure, wolf?"

Damien's dark gaze held hers, unwavering. "A rogue vampire. He's leaving a trail of bodies across the city—humans and werewolves alike."

Lucienne arched an eyebrow, though she already sensed where this was going. "And why is that my problem?"

Damien's jaw tightened. "Because last night, my pack found one of our own. Torn apart."

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable. "And you think I had a hand in this?"

"If I did, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

There it was—the unspoken truth between them. Suspicion, but not certainty. A fragile truce, splintered by centuries of war between their kinds.

Lucienne sighed, her gaze returning to the river. "If a rogue is killing indiscriminately, it won't just be your kind that suffers."

"No, it won't," Damien agreed. "Which is why we work together."

Lucienne let out a low, mirthless laugh. "A truce? You must be desperate."

Damien's expression darkened. "This isn't about trust. It's about survival."

She studied him, eyes sharp, searching. After a long pause, she nodded. "Fine. But let's make one thing clear—I don't take orders."

"Neither do I."

And just like that, the uneasy alliance was forged.

They moved through the city like ghosts, their presence unnoticed by the oblivious mortals around them. The tension between them was a living thing, crackling in the night air, yet their steps were instinctively aligned—two predators hunting the same prey.

"You're quiet," Damien noted as they weaved through a deserted marketplace.

"I prefer silence to pointless conversation," Lucienne replied.

"Is that a vampire thing, or just you?"

She shot him a sidelong glance. "Do you always talk this much, or are you compensating for something?"

A low chuckle rumbled in Damien's throat. "Touché."

Despite the barbs they traded, their movements remained seamless. An unspoken rhythm bound them—one neither wanted to acknowledge.

Then, Damien broke the silence again. "What's it like?"

Lucienne frowned. "What's what like?"

"Living forever." His voice had lost its sharpness, quieter now.

She hesitated. It wasn't a question she was used to answering. "You don't live forever. You exist. And sometimes, that's worse."

Damien studied her, surprised by the candor. "Sounds lonely."

"It is," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

They walked on, the weight of her words lingering between them like an unspoken truth.

"What about you?" Lucienne asked. "What's it like, being part of a pack?"

A muscle in Damien's jaw tightened. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. But then he exhaled, the sound almost weary.

"You're never alone," he said. "But you're never truly free either. The pack comes first. Always."

Lucienne nodded slowly. "And that bothers you."

His lips pressed into a thin line. "Sometimes. But it's all I've ever known."

A sound cut through the night.

Lucienne froze. Her head tilted slightly. "Do you hear that?"

Damien tensed, his senses sharpening. A rustling. Faint, but deliberate.

They followed it through a narrow alley, the scent of blood thick in the air. A crumpled body lay in the shadows, lifeless and torn apart.

And standing over it was the rogue.

His eyes were wild, bloodshot, his fangs bared in a feral snarl.

Damien's muscles coiled, the shift threatening to take over.

"Wait," Lucienne said, holding out a hand.

"For what?" Damien growled.

"We need to know why he's doing this," she murmured. "Killing him won't give us answers."

The rogue vampire staggered back, his gaze darting between them. "Stay away," he hissed, his voice laced with desperation.

Lucienne took a careful step forward. "Who abandoned you?"

The rogue let out a bitter laugh, blood dripping from his lips. "The coven. They said I was weak. That I didn't belong." His expression twisted with rage. "I'll show them. I'll show them all."

Lucienne's eyes darkened. "And you think spilling blood proves your worth?"

"They'll see what I can do," the rogue whispered, his voice cracking. "They'll see I'm not weak."

Then he lunged.

Lucienne moved to intercept, but Damien was faster. His body shifted mid-motion, claws slamming the rogue into the wall with brutal force. The vampire struggled, but he was no match for the werewolf's raw strength.

"Enough," Damien growled, his claws sinking into flesh.

"He's done," Lucienne said, her voice calm but firm.

Damien's golden eyes flicked to hers, searching. Slowly, reluctantly, he released his grip. The rogue collapsed, breathing ragged.

"Go," Lucienne ordered. "Leave Paris. If I see you again, I won't stop him next time."

The rogue hesitated—then vanished into the night.

Damien exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You let him go."

"He wasn't a threat anymore."

"He could come back."

"Then we deal with him," Lucienne said simply.

Damien muttered something under his breath, but he didn't argue.

They climbed to a rooftop, overlooking the city as dawn crept over the horizon.

"You didn't have to stop me," Damien said after a long silence.

"Yes, I did," Lucienne replied. "Killing him wouldn't have solved anything. It would have just made you like him."

Damien frowned but said nothing.

Instead, his gaze lingered on her a moment longer than it should have.

"You're not what I expected," he admitted.

Lucienne turned to him, her expression softer now. "Neither are you."

For the first time, the hostility between them felt… distant. Not gone, but tempered. By something neither of them could quite name.

As the sun threatened to rise, one thing was clear—this alliance was only just beginning.

And neither of them knew what it would cost.