Fire and Blood

*************ANDREIS' POV*************

The moment it hit me, I dropped the glass in my hand.

A sharp pull deep in my chest. Not pain—worse. Fear. Hers.

Mia.

I stumbled back against the wall of my apartment, gripping my shirt like it could stop the echo of her panic roaring through my blood. My hands were shaking. I felt her breath stuttering, her heartbeat pounding like a drum inside me. She was terrified. Drugged. Weak.

No.

No.

No.

I was out the door before I could think, skin ripping and stretching as my body shifted mid-leap down the fire escape. Fur erupted across my limbs, claws dug into concrete, my eyes burned gold. I didn't care who saw. My only thought was her.

Find her. Save her. Kill anyone who touches her.

By the time I reached the forest's edge, Marco was already there—his face carved from stone, eyes blazing the same shade as mine.

"You felt it too," I said, barely containing the growl in my throat.

He nodded once. "Zevian took her."

The name made my vision go black. Zevian—traitor of the Blood Fang Tribe. Power-hungry bastard who broke our sacred law and summoned forbidden rituals to try and dethrone Mia's father. I thought he was dead. Apparently, ambition doesn't die that easily.

"She's at the old altar," Marco said, pulling out two silver daggers from his belt. "He wants to sacrifice her to claim the throne she was born to protect."

I let out a low, guttural snarl. "He touches her, and I'll rip out his throat."

Marco didn't argue. He just ran.

And I followed.

The altar was older than both of us combined—made from volcanic stone and soaked in ancient magic. Mia was bound to it, chained in silver, her head slumped to one side. Her scent was strong—fear, confusion, something darker. Her wrists bled from the bindings.

I almost lost it then.

Zevian stood above her, his robes black with red thread, arms raised as he chanted in some twisted version of our ancient tongue.

I didn't wait.

Crash.

I hit the outer stone wall like a wrecking ball, bricks shattering under my paws. Marco was beside me, already throwing blades into the nearest guards. They fell one by one as we tore through the crowd like shadows made of fury.

Zevian turned, too late.

His smirk vanished the moment I lunged for him.

He shifted, claws meeting mine midair, and we collided with a boom that shook the altar. I slashed at him, teeth bared, but he was fast—stronger than I remembered.

"You can't stop this!" he snarled, our claws locked. "She was born for me!"

Wrong words.

Snap.

I drove my elbow into his jaw and slammed him into the stone base of the altar. "She was born mine."

Marco cleared the remaining guards, blood slick on his blades. Mia stirred on the altar, her body twitching as golden light began to pulse beneath her skin. Her transformation had begun.

Her eyes flew open.

"Mia!" I called out, shifting halfway back to my human form, panting, blood dripping down my temple. "It's me. I'm here."

She looked at me. Really looked at me.

And then—

She screamed.

Not in fear. In release.

A blast of energy burst from her chest, cracking the stone beneath her, shattering the chains. Zevian was flung backwards, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

She stood, glowing like the moon itself, eyes blazing gold. Her aura… it was Alpha-blooded. Divine. Unshaken.

She picked up the fallen ceremonial dagger.

Walked toward Zevian, blade steady.

"If you want my blood," she said, voice calm but terrifying, "come and take it."

Zevian didn't move. He could barely breathe.

But I saw the fear in his eyes. He knew he lost.

Mia staggered slightly, her power fading, and I rushed to catch her before she collapsed. Her body curled into mine like it always did, like it always will. I held her tighter than ever before.

Marco stood behind us, bloodied, breathing hard, eyes locked on his little sister.

She wasn't just family now.

She was a weapon.

She was prophecy.

And she was no longer asleep.