The alley was dark and suffocating. The stench of garbage and dampness clung to the air, mingling with the iron taste of blood. Clara knelt beside the werewolf, her fingers trembling as she tried to apply pressure to the wounds on his chest. His blood soaked her hands, a stark contrast against the cold concrete beneath her. His body shuddered with each shallow breath, the deep claw marks across his torso still oozing with thick, dark crimson.
"Come on… please," Clara muttered, wiping the sweat from her brow, desperate for any sign that he might wake up. She had never been in this situation before, never thought she'd ever be in a situation like this. It was like she had stepped into someone else's nightmare.
The sounds of the city beyond the alley felt distant now—muted, almost unreal. The distant hum of traffic, the buzz of neon lights, none of it seemed to matter. All that mattered was the creature in front of her, the one who had saved her life, yet seemed to be slipping away with every breath he took.
Then, suddenly, his eyes shot open.
Amber. Molten gold. They were nothing like human eyes—nothing like she had ever seen before. They burned with an intensity that made her stomach tighten. He blinked, slowly, as if the effort itself pained him, his vision struggling to focus.
Clara's breath caught in her throat. She instinctively recoiled, but then, his gaze locked onto hers.
"You…" His voice was rough, each word strained, like it took every ounce of energy he had left just to speak. "You're still here."
"I—I'm not leaving you," Clara stammered, her voice wavering between confusion and disbelief. "You're hurt. You need—"
"I don't need your help," he growled, though his voice was hoarse. "And you sure as hell don't need to be involved in this." His golden eyes darted around the alley, scanning the shadows as if expecting something to emerge from the darkness at any moment. His lips curled into a grimace, showing off his sharp canines.
Clara looked at him, startled by his hostility. But she couldn't just leave him here. "You're dying, and I'm not just going to walk away from this," she said, her voice more steady now, though she still felt that sense of unease creeping along her spine.
"I told you. They are coming," he muttered under his breath, his voice growing weaker. "And if you're smart, you'll run. You'll hide. Go back to your normal life, forget about all of this. You don't understand—"
"You don't get to tell me what to do," Clara snapped, her eyes narrowing with frustration. "Who are you? What's going on? Why are they after you?"
He winced, pressing a hand against his side, trying to staunch the blood flow. "I'm not the one they want. It's you. They're after you, Clara."
The words hit her like a punch to the stomach. She took a step back, her mind racing. Me? Why? She had no idea what he was talking about. What could someone like her have that was worth all this? She was just a delivery woman. Just trying to make ends meet in a city that never cared about her.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice trembling, but her defiance pushing through the fear creeping in. "Why would anyone be after me?"
The werewolf didn't answer right away. His eyes, though faintly clouded with pain, gleamed with urgency. He tried to sit up, but his body faltered. A growl of frustration escaped him, and he cursed under his breath.
"Listen," he hissed, locking eyes with her, as if daring her to look away. "You're connected to something they've been hunting for centuries. And you're not safe. Not anymore."
Clara blinked, her pulse quickening. This was insane. Her? A key to some ancient power? She felt like she was caught in a nightmare, but every instinct in her screamed that this wasn't a dream. This was real.
"Vampires. Werewolves. And me," she murmured under her breath, trying to make sense of it all. The pieces weren't fitting. How could she—just a normal person—be a part of this war? She was just trying to survive in this city, trying to forget her past. But somehow, she'd become part of a battle she never asked for.
Before she could ask anything more, the sound of footsteps broke the tense silence. Heavy, deliberate, and growing closer. Clara's breath hitched. She could hear them, even before they appeared.
"Shit," the werewolf muttered under his breath, his body going rigid. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him with surprising strength. "They're here."
Clara's heart raced as the air seemed to grow colder, thicker, more oppressive. Her eyes darted around the alley, but the darkness was too complete. Too silent.
Then they emerged.
Figures cloaked in shadow, moving with unnatural grace, their footsteps barely audible. Clara's blood ran cold. There were four of them—vampires, she knew it, their eyes glowing faintly as they stepped into the dim light, faces half-hidden beneath hoods. But it was their predatory air, their hunger that sent a chill straight to her bones.
The leader, a tall figure with alabaster skin and dark eyes, grinned as he approached. "Well, well… what have we here?" His voice was like silk, smooth and cold. His gaze flicked between Clara and the werewolf, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "You've made a mess of things, haven't you, Ryker?"
Clara's pulse thundered in her ears. She tried to pull her arm back, but the werewolf—Ryker—gripped her tighter. His eyes never left the vampires, his jaw clenched.
"I told you to leave, Clara," he muttered, his voice low and strained. "You don't want to be a part of this. You don't want to be anywhere near them."
Clara threw her hands up in frustration. "Danger? I was just making a delivery, and now I'm being chased by vampires and riding with a—what even are you? A werewolf?"
Ryker's jaw tightened. "Yes. And these vampires right here aren't going to stop hunting you. They've marked you."
"Marked me? For what? I don't even know them!"
Ryker leaned closer, his voice low and urgent. "They don't care who you are. They care about what you are."
Clara recoiled slightly, her breath catching. "What I am? I'm just a courier! A regular person trying to pay rent!"
Ryker sighed, his features softening for a moment. "You don't know, do you?" He rubbed his temples, as if debating how much to tell her. "Look, your blood—it's special. That's all I can say for now. The vampires want it, the Crimson Pact wants it, and if we don't move, they'll both find us."
"Special? What does that even mean?" Clara demanded, but before Ryker could answer, his head snapped to the side, his nostrils flaring.
"They are here"
Three figures emerged from the shadows
The vampire leader stepped closer, his lips curling in a smile that wasn't at all reassuring. "We're here for the girl, Ryker. And I suggest you don't get in our way."
yker's lip curled into a snarl, showing his teeth, his golden eyes glowing brighter in the darkness. "Try me."
Clara's stomach turned as an eerie silence enveloped the street. Shadows moved unnaturally under the dim streetlights, and a familiar voice broke the stillness.
Ryker shoved Clara behind him, his body tense and ready. "Stay back," he muttered to her.
The vampire leader chuckled. "You're bleeding out, Ryker. Do you honestly think you can protect her in your condition?"
Ryker didn't respond. Instead, his claws extended, and his golden eyes began to glow. "You'll have to go through me."
The vampire smirked. "Gladly."
The attack was instantaneous. The vampires moved in a blur, too fast for Clara's eyes to follow. Ryker met them head-on, his claws slashing through the air with precision. The first vampire lunged, fangs bared, but Ryker ducked and drove his claws into the creature's chest, throwing it aside like a ragdoll.
The second vampire came from the left, aiming for Ryker's throat. Ryker spun, his movements fluid despite his injuries, and raked his claws across the vampire's face. It howled in pain, black ichor oozing from the wounds.
But the leader didn't join the fray. He watched with a cold smile, his eyes flicking to Clara. "Why waste energy on the mutt when the prize is standing right there?"
Clara's blood ran cold as he began to approach her. She stumbled back, her mind racing for an escape. She spotted a rusted pipe on the ground and grabbed it, holding it out like a makeshift weapon.
"Stay back!" she shouted, though her voice wavered.
The vampire leader laughed, the sound low and menacing. "What are you going to do with that, little girl? Scratch me?"
Before he could take another step, Ryker appeared in front of Clara, his breathing ragged but his stance unwavering. Blood dripped from his wounds, but his golden eyes burned with determination.
"I told you," Ryker growled, his voice filled with raw power. "You're not touching her."
The vampire leader's smirk faded, replaced by a look of annoyance. "You're persistent, I'll give you that. But persistence won't save you."
With a flick of his wrist, the vampire leader sent a wave of dark energy hurtling toward Ryker. The force of it slammed into him, sending him crashing into a nearby dumpster.
"Ryker!" Clara screamed, but before she could run to him, the vampire leader was in front of her. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist in a vice-like grip.
"Enough games," he said, his voice cold. "You're coming with me."
Clara struggled, panic clawing at her chest. She swung the pipe with all her strength, but the vampire caught it effortlessly, snapping it in half with one hand.
"Pathetic," he sneered.
Just as he began to drag her away, a deep, guttural growl echoed through the street. The temperature seemed to drop as the shadows around them thickened.
The vampire leader froze, his grip on Clara loosening. "What is this…?"
From the darkness, a new figure emerged—a tall, hooded man whose presence sent chills down Clara's spine. His face was obscured, but his voice was a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the air.
"She's under my protection now," the man said, his tone calm but laced with danger.
The vampire leader's eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you?"
The hooded man didn't answer. Instead, he raised a hand, and the shadows around him surged forward like living tendrils. They struck the vampire leader, wrapping around him and lifting him off the ground.
The leader snarled, struggling against the dark tendrils, but they tightened, forcing him to drop Clara. She stumbled backward, her chest heaving as she watched in stunned silence.
"This isn't over," the vampire leader hissed before the shadows flung him into the darkness, his form disappearing entirely.
The remaining vampires fled, their loyalty not strong enough to face this new threat.
Ryker staggered to his feet, his eyes widening as he saw the hooded man. "You…"
The man turned to Ryker, his face still hidden. "Keep her safe. She's more important than you realize."
Before either of them could respond, the man disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind only an unsettling silence.
Clara turned to Ryker, her voice trembling. "Who was that?"
Ryker wiped the blood from his face, his expression grim. "Someone we don't want to cross paths with again."