The Red Moon loomed higher, bleeding its eerie crimson light across the tangled forest. Elara tightened her grip on the unconscious stranger's shoulders. His body was heavy, too heavy for someone who looked carved from shadow and starlight.
Her breath fogged the air as she dragged him through the underbrush. Blood smeared the ground behind them in a dark trail that made her stomach twist.
"Stay with me," she whispered, though she knew he couldn't hear her.
Lucien Vaelthorn.
She had heard his name only once before, whispered by a dying fae scout three winters ago, a name drenched in fear, spoken with reverence and terror.
A hybrid born of forbidden blood.
A prophecy wrapped in death.
A monster hunted by both realms.
But lying here, bleeding and unconscious under the moon's crimson glow, he looked less like a prophecy and more like a broken man.
Lightning flickered silently across the sky, illuminating his face for a heartbeat, pale, beautiful, carved with agony.
Her heart ached.
"Why are you even alive?" she murmured.
The stories claimed hybrids died at birth. Their blood was too contradictory; vampiric hunger and fae magic could not coexist. But Lucien breathed, though each breath rattled like a dying flame.
A low growl rumbled behind her.
Elara spun, dragging Lucien closer.
The forest's shadows shifted too fast, too smoothly, and three sets of glowing yellow eyes materialised in the darkness. Her pulse spiked.
Nightwolves.
Drawn to blood. Thriving in the Red Moon's curse.The largest snarled, revealing jagged black teeth. Its massive shoulders rippled with muscle as it stepped forward.
Elara's hands trembled.
She could run alone and maybe survive.
But leave Lucien?
Her stomach clenched. She didn't know him. Didn't trust him. But her curse showed her only darkness around him, not death.
And that meant one thing.
His future was tied to hers.She grabbed a handful of ash dust from her satchel and threw it into the air. It shimmered briefly before the wind scattered it uselessly.
The wolves crept closer.
"Stay back," she whispered, raising her lantern like a shield.
The smallest wolf lunged first.
Elara screamed
But a shadow blurred past her.
Lucien moved.
He moved like smoke, one moment limp in her arms, the next a creature of lethal grace. His eyes snapped open, burning silver.
In a single motion, he lifted his hand.
Claws black, hooked, unnatural- slid from his fingertips.
The wolf leapt.
Lucien struck.
A flash of silver. A spray of blackened blood. The beast crumpled midair.The other wolves roared.
Lucien stood barely steady, but terrifying. His lips peeled back, revealing elongated fangs dripping with dark blood.
But it wasn't the fangs that froze Elara's breath.
It was the glow beneath his skin.
Thin, delicate lines like cracks of molten moonlight lit up across his chest, neck, and arms. A strange, pulsing power pushed against the air.
Vampire hunger.
Fae magic.
Both battling inside him.
His voice was a snarl. "Stay behind me."
Elara didn't argue.
The remaining wolves circled, but the moment Lucien's silver gaze locked onto them, they whimpered, stepping back.
He didn't chase.
He didn't kill.
He simply watched, trembling, as they vanished into the night.
As soon as they were gone, his strength drained again. His claws retracted. His eyes dimmed.
He collapsed to his knees.
Elara rushed to him. "Lucien!"
He exhaled sharply, clutching his side. His skin was cold, too cold.
"You… shouldn't have helped me," he murmured. "You make… the hunger worse.
"She froze. "What hunger?"
He lifted his gaze, pained and ashamed.
"Yours," he whispered.
Her breath caught. "Mine?"
"You're fae enough that your soul… sings." He shuddered, gripping the earth to stay upright. "And vampire enough that your blood… tempts."
Her heart thudded violently.
"You're feeding on my presence?" she asked, voice barely a whisper.
He shook his head, trembling harder. "No. I'm starving because of it.
"Before she could speak, he lurched forward, coughing violently. Dark blood stained his lips.
"Lucien!" She held his shoulders as he collapsed against her. His breath ghosted against her neck, cold, hungry, desperate.
He inhaled.
Deeply.
She stiffened.
He wasn't trying to bite her.
He was trying not to.
"Please…" he whispered, voice cracking."Run.
"Elara felt something inside her break.
How can I run, she whispered, when you're dying?
His hand, cold and trembling, lifted to her cheek.
Because, he breathed, "when I lose control… I will kill you.
The forest went silent again. Even the wind paused.
Then Lucien sagged, unconscious once more.
Elara's throat tightened.
This man, half fae, half vampire, cursed by prophecy, was dangerous enough to end kingdoms. Dangerous enough to kill her.
But if