The blood moon hung low over the Ironspine Mountains, painting the forest in crimson. Vexa pressed her back against a gnarled oak, chest heaving, her silver hair matted with sweat and blood. The silver-forged blade in her hand trembled—three vampire elders lay dead at her feet, but their followers were closing in, their snarls echoing through the trees. Her father's teachings rang in her ears: Vampires are monsters. Wolves are beasts. Trust no one with fangs or claws. But right now, the monsters she hunted were the least of her problems.
A low, guttural growl cut through the chaos. Vexa whipped around, blade raised, and froze.
There, in the clearing, stood a man—or something close to it. Tall, broad-shouldered, his deep brown hair streaked with silver wild against his temples, his deep gold eyes glowing with a feral light. The clawed scars on his chest pulsed with dark purple magic, spreading like a disease up his neck. His hands were already shifting, nails lengthening into black claws, fur sprouting along his forearms. A wolf alpha. And he was mid-transformation, caught in the throes of a curse.
"Stay back," Vexa snarled, channeling her bloodline—ice blue eyes sharpening into slits, the scar on her shoulder glowing faintly. She'd fought wolves before, but never an alpha. Never one radiating such raw, corrupted power.
The alpha stumbled, clutching his chest, a roar of pain tearing from his throat. "Shadow Eaters…" he gasped, his voice gravelly, half-human. "They're hunting me. Hunting you."
Vexa's breath hitched. The Shadow Eaters—ancient creatures that fed on vampire and wolf blood. She'd tracked them for months, ever since they'd slaughtered her father's hunting party. But what did they want with a wolf alpha?
Before she could ask, the forest shook. A wave of black mist rolled over the trees, carrying the stench of rot. The vampire followers' screams cut off abruptly, replaced by gurgles of agony. Vexa's blood ran cold—she'd seen that mist before. It consumed everything in its path.
The alpha's transformation accelerated, his body contorting as fur covered his skin, his bones cracking. But the curse was fighting back, the dark scars spreading faster, threatening to overwhelm him. "I can't hold on," he gritted out, his deep gold eyes locking onto hers. There was no hatred there—only desperation. "Your blood… it's pure. It can suppress the curse. Help me, and I'll protect you from the Shadow Eaters. From the vampires. From everyone."
Vexa hesitated. Her father had died hating wolves. Her mother had abandoned her to escape the coven. But right now, the Shadow Eaters were closing in. She was outnumbered, outmatched, and her blood was running thin. The alpha was her only chance.
"Prove it," she said, stepping forward, blade still raised. "Swear you won't betray me. Swear you'll fight with me."
The alpha's wolfish features softened, just for a moment. "I, Rook Theron, alpha of the Gray Wolf Pack, swear by the blood moon and my ancestors. I will bind my soul to yours. Your enemies are mine. Your pain is mine. Until death do us part."
As the words left his lips, he tore off the moonstone pendant around his neck, clutching it in his clawed hand. Vexa hesitated, then sliced her palm open with her blade, letting her blood drip onto the pendant. The metal glowed, humming with power. Rook stepped closer, pressing his bleeding palm to hers.
A searing pain shot through Vexa's arm, spreading to her chest. She screamed, but couldn't pull away—something invisible was binding them, weaving their souls together. The scar on her shoulder blazed, matching the glow of Rook's curse scars. Their wrists burned, and when the pain faded, Vexa looked down to see a mark: a wolf's head wrapped in thorns, etched into her skin. Rook had the same mark on his wrist.
The Shadow Eaters' mist reached the clearing, coiling around their ankles. Rook roared, completing his transformation—he stood as a giant black and silver wolf, his猩红 eyes locked on the mist, his fangs bared. Vexa felt his power surge through the bond, warm and fierce. She raised her blade, her blood glowing, and the silver-forged metal turned into a blade of pure light.
"Together," Rook's voice echoed in her mind, a deep rumble that sent shivers down her spine.
"Together," Vexa whispered, and they charged into the mist.
The fight was brutal. The Shadow Eaters took form—twisted, shadowy creatures with glowing red eyes—swarming them from all sides. Rook tore through them with his claws, his curse power fueling his attacks, while Vexa sliced through the mist with her light blade, her blood purifying the corruption wherever it touched. Through the bond, she felt his pain as a Shadow Eater's claw raked his side, and he felt hers when a tendril of mist wrapped around her throat.
But they fought on. For hours, they stood back to back, their power amplifying through the pact, their mark glowing brighter with each strike. When the last Shadow Eater dissolved into smoke, the blood moon was high in the sky, and both were barely standing.
Rook shifted back to human form, his chest heaving, the curse scars on his chest dimmed but still visible. Vexa's blade had faded back to silver, and her palm was still bleeding. They stared at each other, their breathing synchronized, the bond between them thrumming like a live wire.
"You're a vampire," Rook said, his voice low, his deep gold eyes studying her. "A half-blood."
"You're cursed," Vexa shot back, but there was no hatred in her voice. Only exhaustion. And something else—curiosity.
Rook nodded, touching the mark on his wrist. "The pact is binding. We're shadowbound now. Until one of us dies."
Vexa looked at her own mark, the wolf and thorns glowing faintly. She thought of her father's teachings, of the vampires who wanted her dead, of the Shadow Eaters who would hunt them forever. For the first time in her life, she wasn't alone.
"Then we'd better not die," she said, sheathing her blade. "Not yet."
Rook's lips curved into a faint, rare smile. "Not yet."
As they walked away from the clearing, the blood moon at their backs, Vexa felt the bond between them deepen. It was a forbidden pact, a union of enemies, a shadowbound fate neither of them had chosen. But as Rook's power wrapped around her through the bond, warm and protective, she couldn't help but wonder—maybe some fates were worth embracing. Even the ones that were cursed.