Chapter Text
In a world where monsters were the majority and humans barely survived as a distant echo of what they once were, civilization had transformed. The maps remained the same, but the names, the rules, the ways of life… everything was different. The cities breathed magic, tension, and secrets as ancient as time itself. They said spells were buried beneath the foundations of every building, curses asleep in the dust, pacts sealed with forgotten blood that still pulsed beneath the surface.
The streets were not just streets: they were living arteries of a nocturnal society, pulsing with a fragile balance between power and desire. Neon lights lit up avenues filled with creatures that humans, in their ignorance, had barely dared to describe in mythology. And yet there they were, walking among everyone, laughing in bars, working in banks, driving trains, signing treaties, dancing until dawn.
Vampires with elegant manners and handmade suits spoke the language of centuries, with eyes that had seen everything yet still longed to feel something. Sirens sang on late night radio, their voices wrapping around listeners like a slow, inevitable current. Demons ran law firms and never lost a case, not because they cheated, because the truth itself was afraid of them. Shapeshifters used their gifts to design clothes, faces, identities. And werewolves… the ancient guardians of the earth, the children of the moon.
Daniela Avanzini was one of them.
She belonged to one of the oldest lineages in the werewolf world. Her last name didn’t just open doors, it made them tremble before she even approached. The Avanzinis were living history. Blood that had endured clan wars, broken treaties, silent purges. They had been kings, warriors, and later, diplomats. Now, they moved among the political, artistic, and academic elites. Where there was power, an Avanzini was never far behind.
Daniela had grown up among ancient rituals, marble halls, and secrets whispered softly around bonfires. Since she was a child, she’d been taught to walk tall, to answer with her gaze, to hunt with a calm heart. She was wild beauty and discipline, instinct and study. A wolf in the fullness of her strength.
At sixty years old, she was barely considered an adult. And yet, her name was already being whispered during full moon gatherings as a future leader. Werewolves aged differently. Their bodies stopped aging at twenty five, or rather, that was the age they would carry forever. A pact sealed with nature itself. An eternity of youth to run through forests and dance beneath the stars.
And tonight, the city was celebrating her.
Not because the whole world knew it was her birthday. It was because Daniela had decided, just like every year, that the only proper way to celebrate her existence was by dancing. In a club where the lights flickered like electric fireflies and the bass throbbed like a second heartbeat. Sweat shimmered on her skin, her black jacket caught the lights like a living banner. The red top she wore revealed the scar on her shoulder blade, a curved, almost elegant line, a memory from a fight with a northern banshee years ago, back when she was still in training.
Her dark curls were loose, wild, and her laughter, rare abd genuine, bounced between the walls like a spell. It wasn’t just the alcohol or the music. It was her. Daniela shone. People noticed her. They always did.
And beside her, Jake.
Her partner for nearly two decades. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a strong jaw and eyes that rarely strayed from her. Jake was also a werewolf, also from an important family, also destined, since they were barely teenagers, to join her for reasons that had more to do with politics than love.
For years, Daniela had hated that idea. Hated Jake for representing what she couldn’t choose. For being the life that was imposed on her, the cage disguised as stability. But time, like water, wears even the most rebellious stone down. Jake had been patient. He had learned to read her, not to force her. And without even realizing it, Daniela had begun to make space for him.
There was no passion between them, not the kind poems spoke of. But there was something solid. Something that didn’t tremble in the wind. Sometimes, that was enough. Sometimes, that too was love.
“Dani,” Jake said, leaning in to speak close to her ear, his smile crooked and conspiratorial. “Come with me.”
She looked at him with curiosity, still laughing, and let him guide her out of the club. The music faded behind them like an echo. They stepped into a side street, then crossed into an alleyway barely lit by a flickering streetlamp. The air was colder there, damp, filled with the metallic scent of the city and the distant trace of a recent storm.
Jake gently pressed her against a moss covered brick wall. He kissed her, tenderly, with a quiet urgency. His hand slid to her waist, touching ground that never fully belonged to him, but still responded.
“Jake…” she whispered, laughing softly against his lips, eyes almost closed.
Until a sound broke the moment.
A faint rustle. The movement of something, or someone, among the stacked boxes at the far end of the alley. They both tensed instantly. The lycan instinct surged like a wave of ice. Daniela turned her head, sniffed the air. Jake had already let go of her waist, fully alert.
“I’ll get a flashlight,” he said, already walking away.
Daniela nodded. But she didn’t wait.
Her steps were slow, nearly silent. Muscles coiled, mind focused. She nudged one of the boxes aside with her foot… and what she found behind it knocked the breath from her lungs.
A girl. Curled in on herself. Half naked. Her tangled hair fell over her face like a curtain of shadows. She was dirty, wounded. Her skin looked like wet paper, fragile, dull. Her lips were cracked, her knees scraped, her ribs protruding beneath her skin as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks.
But it was her eyes that stopped Daniela’s heart.
Red.
Not glowing. Not burning. Red like fever. Like hunger. Like shame. Like desire repressed for far too long.
Vampire? Daniela thought instantly.
She knew how to recognize them. Everyone did. The eyes were the mark of the soul. Unlike werewolves, vampires were restrained emotion. Their eyes changed color with fear, anger, humiliation… or hunger.
And this girl was starving.
Desperately.
Since the gradual disappearance of humans, vampires had become pariahs in their own world.
Daniela felt something twist in her stomach. Logic told her to back away. To call Jake. To let the authorities handle it. To keep her distance. Not to trust.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she slid her jacket off her left arm. Her wrist was exposed, pale under the flickering light of the streetlamp. It was a vulnerable part of her body, but she held it steady in the air, extended toward that small, trembling figure watching her with disbelief and hunger.
Yes. It was wrong. There was no way to justify it before any council, any clan elder, any diplomatic assembly. Vampires were not allowed to feed on other supernatural creatures.
It was a sacred agreement, written in the blood of the fallen, signed after centuries of savage wars, betrayals, and massacres. A fragile balance that had cost thousands of lives to achieve. Crossing that line, even out of mercy, was considered nearly heretical.
But… what if it was just once?
What if, beyond all rules, all pacts carved in stone and treaties written in blood, the truly immoral thing would’ve been to turn away? To pretend she hadn’t seen her? To look at that curled up body, that broken skin, that hunger as ancient as her race… and walk away?
There was something profoundly cruel in the fact that laws existed to preserve peace, yes, but sometimes also to ignore pain. To bury, beneath the roar of diplomacy, the things that made them uncomfortable, the things that bled without glory.
Daniela knew that.
She knew what vampires were like among their own. No one said it out loud, but the stories were everywhere: in war records, in clan whispers, in the forgotten chronicles her mother kept locked away. They could be beautiful, eternal, wise… but they also knew how to be ruthless. Especially with their own.
Because not all vampires were the same. Not all came from strong bloodlines, from ancient circles, from houses with names carved in stone and lined with libraries. Not all were well fed, or well trained, or protected.
And that girl, lying in the alley, was the clearest example.
She was alone. Fragile. Covered in mud, wounds, and silence. And the saddest part of all was that Daniela knew no one was looking for her. No clan would come for her. No elegant figure would cross the city to bring her home. If they found her, if they found her first, they wouldn’t help. They wouldn’t feed her. They wouldn’t clothe her. They would judge her. Crush her, as if her misery were contagious.
Because a vampire so weak, so exposed, was a disgrace. A crack in the perfection they guarded so fiercely. A shame that needed to disappear.
And Daniela had seen it before. In other cities, in other decades. She had witnessed how the weak were discarded. How those who preached purity and power used those words like knives. There was no compassion among them, not for the ones left behind. Not for the ones who fell.
And she...
That girl looked like she had fallen from very high.
Who had she been before ending up here? What had she dreamed of? Who had let her die little by little?
Daniela took a deep breath, and she knew her heart had already made the choice.
The girl blinked slowly. Her body still curled inward, as if afraid it was all a mirage. She inched closer, like each movement cost her sheer willpower. Then lowered her face toward the offered wrist. She didn’t touch it right away.
First, she smelled it. Closed her eyes. Her nose moved slightly. The scent must have hit her like lightning: warm blood, alive, powerful. Alpha wolf blood. Daniela felt her shudder. Saw her fangs emerge, slowly, as if she were still hesitating. As if shame wouldn’t allow her to be what she was.
“May I?” she asked, in a thread of a voice so thin it barely broke the air. Her fangs were visible, but they held no threat.
Daniela didn’t hesitate.
Not for a second.
“I give you permission,” she said, her voice firm, neither raised nor softened.
The girl’s dilated pupils locked onto Daniela’s, as if still waiting for her to change her mind. As if she needed those words repeated, confirmed, signed with something more than courage. But Daniela didn’t pull her arm away.
First came the warm breath on her skin, more human than she had imagined. Then the lips, cold and delicate, barely brushing the curve of her wrist, as if asking for forgiveness before committing a sin. And finally, the fangs. They slid in with a painful slowness, tentative, uncertain… until they sank in.
The pain was immediate, but brief. A sharp, precise burn.
Daniela closed her eyes.
She could feel her pulse speeding in her temples, a wild beat rushing straight to the open wound. The suction was gentle, almost reverent.
The blood left her at a steady, rhythmic pace. Daniela could feel her heartbeat transferred to another mouth, pulsing in another throat. It was strange, profoundly strange.
When the vampire pulled away, it was with a barely audible sound, almost of guilt. Daniela noticed her lips were stained, not just with blood, with tremor too. Her chest rose and fell violently, as if she were holding herself back, fighting not to collapse again.
The marks were clean. Two dark points on her skin.
The vampire lowered her gaze, closing her eyes as if carrying something heavy inside her soul. But when she lifted them again, they met Daniela’s, who hadn’t stepped back even an inch. Her wrist was still exposed. Her eyes still open.
“Are you… okay?” the vampire whispered.
Daniela nodded.
“Yes.” Her voice came out softer than she expected.
“You’re controlling it.”
“…Thank you,” the girl murmured, barely audible.
Daniela didn’t reply with words. She simply let her arm fall, now slightly numb, and remained there.
The vampire’s breathing was still uneven, though the red in her eyes had faded.
And then, footsteps.
Fast. Uncertain.
“Daniela? Where are you?”
Jake.
The flashlight beam danced across the walls, casting shadows that seemed too long for such a narrow alley. He saw her. Ran toward her the moment he recognized her silhouette, stopping short when he took in the scene: Daniela with her arm down, blood on her skin, and the closeness of the other figure.
“What the hell happened?” he exclaimed, voice thick with alarm.
In two strides, he was already between Daniela and the vampire, arm stretched out like a shield.
“Did she bite you? Are you bleeding?”
Daniela opened her mouth, but couldn’t get a word out in time. Jake was already turning to the vampire, eyes blazing, face twisted with rage.
“She could’ve killed you!” he shouted, unable to hold back. “What kind of sick joke is this?”
“It wasn’t a joke,” Daniela said softly, not raising her voice. So calm, the sound of it seemed to carry more weight than any scream.
Jake turned toward her, frozen.
“What…?”
“I offered it to her.”
“You… offered it to her?”
Daniela nodded.
Jake blinked. He looked at her wrist again, as if hoping the wound might vanish, as if that would change anything. Then he looked into her eyes. And finally, at the vampire, who hadn’t moved a single inch since he’d arrived. She was still there, like a breathing statue.
“Do you even know what you just did?” Jake lowered his voice, but the intensity grew with every word. “Do you realize what this means? This isn’t a game, Daniela. This is—”
“I do know,” she interrupted, looking at him without blinking.
And in that moment, Jake broke a little. Not completely. But enough for his shoulders to sag. For the flashlight to tremble slightly in his hand.
“I need… I need some air,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.
Without waiting for a response, he turned around and walked quickly toward the mouth of the alley.
Daniela lingered a few seconds longer. Her wrist burned, and the night breeze sent a chill through her.
One glance at the girl was enough to know she wouldn’t attack. Not now. Probably not tonight.
Daniela stepped back, then again. She didn’t want to leave her like this, but she couldn’t stay either. She turned and started walking in Jake’s direction.
“Jake,” she called softly.
He didn’t stop.
“Jake.” she repeated, more firmly this time.
He slowed, but didn’t turn around. When he finally stopped, it was in front of an old rusted gate that led to an empty lot. He placed a hand on one of the iron bars and took a deep breath. Daniela approached him silently.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“Are you insane?” he said at last, turning to face her, his voice tense and laced with disbelief. “Do you even realize what you just did? You fed a vampire your blood.”
Daniela met his eyes, steady.
“Yes, I did.”
Jake glared at her.
“You can’t possibly understand what that means. We’re werewolves. Our blood isn’t a toy for them. That’s betrayal, Daniela. A goddamn betrayal!”
“And what was I supposed to do?” she snapped, frustration rising in her voice. “Leave her there to die like trash? You think I care about politics or tradition when someone’s on the brink of death?”
Jake took a step closer, rage flashing in his eyes.
“You don’t get to risk the whole herd for some personal crusade. That vampire isn’t our ally, especially not after you gave her your blood. Do you know what happens if someone finds out?”
“And what did you expect me to do? Just stand there and watch her die?” Daniela shot back, voice cracking but still strong. “You know how cruel vampires are. They never would’ve helped her. I just saved a life.”
“That’s not saving a life, that’s playing with fire!” Jake shouted, finally losing his temper. “Do you want to be crucified? Kicked out of the herd?”
Daniela clenched her fists, feeling the weight of every word like a direct hit to the pride she’d worked so hard to build. She took a deep breath and held Jake’s gaze without flinching.
“I’d rather carry that guilt than live knowing I did nothing.” Her voice was steady, though a shadow of exhaustion crept across her expression.
Jake watched her in silence for a few seconds. He looked like he was about to say something else, but all that came out was a dry, disbelieving sigh.
“You just made a huge mistake,” he said finally, and his voice sounded different, not angry, just disappointed and hurt. “I don’t recognize you.”
“What you did is going to leave a mark, Dani,” Jake went on, his voice dropping lower. “You’re not just a wolf anymore. You gave her your blood. Now you’re… tied to her.”
Daniela turned her face away.
“It wasn’t a bond. It wasn’t a ritual. I just helped her.”
“And that’s enough for you to sleep soundly at night?” he asked. “Sooner or later, you’re going to understand what it means to make a blood promise to a creature like her.”
Daniela pressed her lips together. “You’re being paranoid, Jake.”
“Paranoid?” Jake let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Our parents are going to kill us if they find out. Not just because of what you did, because of what it means.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Now you have a goddamn mark on your wrist. How do you plan to hide that? Are you going to wear long sleeves for the rest of the year like it’s winter?”
“I’ll say a snake bit me,” she replied, without meeting his eyes.
“A snake?” he repeated, scandalized. “On your wrist? Exactly there? Do you think anyone’s going to buy that crap? Daniela, for God’s sake! You’re one of the wolves they trust the most. One of the heirs of the main bloodline. The one they hold up as an example during training.”
Daniela didn’t respond right away. She swallowed hard and crossed her arms, trying to calm the pounding in her chest. The night air was cool, but heat was rising up her neck.
“The mark will fade,” she murmured. “It’s not permanent. There were no words. It was just… an impulse.”
“An impulse that could cost you your entire herd’s trust!” Jake took a step toward her. “Do you still not understand what you’ve done? You fed a vampire with your blood. Not just anyone’s, yours. That carries weight, Daniela. That has consequences. And not just for you.”
Daniela lowered her gaze for a moment, feeling the sting on her skin where the two faint punctures were becoming more visible.
“I know,” she said finally. “But I don’t regret it.”
Jake looked at her with a mix of sadness and disappointment. He stayed quiet for a few seconds, until the sound of approaching footsteps made them both alert.
“We have to go. Family meeting in half an hour,” he said. “Pull down your sleeve. And keep it that way. No one can see it.”
Daniela nodded silently, tugging her sleeve down slowly. The brush of the fabric against the mark made her shut her eyes for a moment.
Jake didn’t touch her. He simply walked ahead, toward the car. And for the first time in a long while, she felt a distance between them that she didn’t know how to begin to close.