Blood and Bone

Smoke curled into the grey sky like the fingers of the dead.

Varek stepped through the ashes of what was once a village—Falrick Hollow, a quiet settlement nestled near the edge of vampire territory. Now it was little more than scorched stone and blackened bones.

He crouched beside a burned corpse.

Small frame. Arms curled around something… someone.

Another body. Child-sized.

Charred beyond recognition.

His fangs clenched. Heat rose behind his eyes, but no tears came. He didn't have that kind of softness left.

He remembered this place. As a boy, he and his mother had passed through it seeking shelter. A human family had shared a fire with them. Fed them. Laughed with them.

Now they were gone.

And he knew who had done it.

Alaric Mordane.

The vampire lord had made it his mission to purge any whispers of hybrid impurity from vampire dominions. His thirst for "purity" had drowned thousands.

But this?

This was personal.

There were no survivors, but there were signs—clawed boots, blood sigils, scorched silver.

Varek knelt by the well in the center of the square and let his blood drip onto the stone rim. His eyes flared red, then silver.

Visions came in waves:

Fire. Screams.

Crimson armor. Alaric standing over a dying child.

"He lives," the child rasped. "The son… of Elira."

Alaric's face twisted. "Then we hunt."

The vision snapped.

Varek staggered, growling low in his throat.

He knew now.

Alaric wasn't just retaliating. He was hunting him—again.

Far to the west, Selene stood before a mirror in the Shadowfang sanctuary baths.

She was supposed to be preparing for the Lunar Oath ceremony—an ancient rite binding generals to their pack before the Moon Council.

But her body still felt branded by Varek's touch.

His blood was in her. His scent wouldn't leave her skin.

She'd tried to scrub him out. It only made her burn hotter.

She wasn't stupid. She knew what had happened between them. A soul mark. Rare. Almost mythic.

It wasn't just sex.

It was fate claiming them both.

And the deeper truth clawed at her:

She didn't want to let it go.

She stared at herself—naked, water glistening on her skin, hair damp against her shoulders—and whispered his name like a sin.

Then Korr entered, without knocking.

Selene turned and grabbed a towel, but the moment had already passed.

Korr's expression was tight, his nostrils flared.

"You're leaving again, aren't you?"

Selene's silence answered him.

"You swore to lead the battalion into the highlands."

"I did."

"Then why does your body still smell like him?"

She spun, eyes blazing. "Careful."

But Korr didn't flinch. He stepped closer.

"I loved you before this," he said quietly. "Before the blood. Before the title. I still would."

Selene's throat tightened.

"Korr…"

"No. You need to hear this. If you go back to him, it won't just be your blood that's spilled. You'll bring down everything—your rank, your honor, our alliance with the Moon Court."

"I never asked for any of this."

"But now it's yours."

He stepped back, jaw clenched.

"When you walk out that gate, don't expect to come back."

Then he was gone.

Selene stood in silence.

Then she dressed.

And walked out the gate.

Dusk.

Varek stood at the edge of a forest clearing, sword sheathed, body still.

He'd followed the blood trail from the village to here—a glade ringed in ancient trees.

A trap.

He walked into it anyway.

Six vampires stepped from the shadows.

All dressed in crimson armor.

All wearing the mark of House Mordane.

The leader—a tall female vampire with bone-white hair and a jagged scar across her mouth—smirked.

"Half-breed."

"Pureblood," Varek replied.

She hissed and charged.

The fight was a blur of steel and shadow.

Varek moved like water through fire—graceful, brutal, surgical.

His claws tore through crimson armor like parchment. His fangs ripped flesh with practiced precision.

But there were six.

And they were trained.

He took a blade to the side, another to his thigh. Blood poured, and his vision swam.

Then he felt it—

Her.

Like lightning through the dark.

Selene dropped from the trees with a snarl, her glaive spinning.

She moved like fury incarnate—cutting two vampires down in seconds, her blade singing with every arc.

Varek staggered, surprised.

"What—?"

"You're bleeding," she said, eyes wild.

"So are you."

They stood back to back as the final four surrounded them.

"Still sure this was fate?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"More than ever."

Then they fought—together.

When it was over, the glade was slick with blood and broken bodies.

Selene leaned against a tree, panting.

Varek collapsed beside her.

For a long time, neither spoke.

Then Varek turned to her, eyes glazed with pain.

"You came."

She looked down at her hands, still stained with blood.

"I had to."

His fingers brushed hers.

"Because of the bond?"

She looked at him.

"No. Because I wanted to."

Later that night, in the hollow of the ruined glade, Varek lay with his head in Selene's lap as she cleaned his wounds.

"You were careless," she said softly, wiping away blood.

"I was angry."

"At what?"

He opened his eyes. "My past. My legacy. Myself."

She traced his jawline with her fingers. "I'm still angry too."

"At me?"

"No. At fate. For making you the one I was supposed to kill."

They sat in silence.

Then Selene spoke again.

"Alaric knows who you are. He's not just hunting. He's planning something bigger."

Varek nodded.

"I saw him in the blood."

"We need to stop him."

Varek looked up at her.

"We?"

Selene kissed his forehead.

"Yes. We."

Far away, deep in the black sanctum of the vampire spires, Alaric Mordane stood before a crowd of blood-marked nobles.

His voice echoed.

"The hybrid has awakened the mark. The werewolf bitch has chosen her side. The old prophecy stirs."

"Then we burn it all," one noble hissed.

Alaric smiled.

"No," he said. "We let them come. We let them believe in their love. Then we rip it out of them piece by piece."