The forest was bathed in a deep, quiet gloom as dusk descended upon the land. William walked purposefully through the dense underbrush, his cloak billowing lightly in the cool evening breeze. His mind was heavy, the weight of his decision pressing on him like an iron shackle.
Ahead of him, Marlowe—the youngest wolf of the Redfang clan—stood nervously. His youthful face was pale, his eyes darting between William and the sky above.
"Are you sure about this, William?" Marlowe's voice cracked slightly, betraying his unease. "If you give me your bloodline power… won't it leave you defenseless?"
William smiled faintly, though the gesture didn't reach his eyes. He placed a reassuring hand on Marlowe's shoulder. "You're stronger than you realize, Marlowe. This gift will ensure you're ready for what's to come."
Marlowe's lips quivered, and his gaze dropped to the ground. "But… why me? You're the chosen one, the future leader. I don't deserve this."
William knelt slightly, meeting Marlowe's eye level. "In another time, another life, I might have thought the same thing. But I've seen what happens if this power stays with me. It's a curse as much as a blessing. You're young, untainted by the schemes and betrayals that plague our kind. Use it wisely. Protect those who cannot protect themselves."
The young wolf hesitated, but William's firm resolve finally silenced his protests. He knelt obediently, baring his neck as William prepared the ancient transfer ritual.
The ritual was simple yet excruciating. William's claws elongated, glowing faintly with the ethereal light of his bloodline. With a single, precise motion, he sliced his palm and allowed his blood to drip onto Marlowe's skin. The boy winced as the blood was absorbed into his body, glowing briefly before fading.
The pain was immediate. William staggered, clutching his chest as if something vital had been ripped from within him. His connection to the primal force of his bloodline—the gift of his ancestors—was gone. He could feel the void it left behind, a hollow ache that echoed through his being.
Marlowe, meanwhile, gasped as power surged through him. His previously trembling frame steadied, and his eyes gleamed with newfound strength.
"William…" Marlowe began, but William raised a hand to stop him.
"There's no time," he said, his voice hoarse. "Go now. Head to the forest edge. You'll find allies waiting there. Tell them what I've done and prepare for the coming storm."
Marlowe hesitated but eventually nodded, his movements hesitant and pained. "Thank you," he whispered before disappearing into the shadows.
As Marlowe's figure vanished, William exhaled slowly. He turned his gaze toward the distant cliff edge, his path illuminated by the faint light of the rising moon.
The cliff loomed ahead like a solemn sentinel. William approached it with deliberate steps, his thoughts a tangled mess of regret and determination.
He had returned to this exact place, at this exact time—the moment that defined his previous life. He still remembered the pain of betrayal, the helplessness of being cast aside, and the cruel indifference of the world.
But this time, it was different. This time, he wasn't running from death; he was running toward something greater.
As he stepped closer to the edge, the roar of the wind filled his ears. The jagged rocks below seemed to taunt him, daring him to take the plunge.
For a brief moment, doubt crept into his mind. Was this truly the right choice? He clenched his fists, banishing the thought.
"Yes," he whispered to himself. "This is the only way."
Without a second thought, William leaped.
The rush of air stole his breath as he plummeted, the wind tearing at his clothes and hair. The ground raced toward him with terrifying speed, and for a moment, he felt the same helplessness that had gripped him in his previous life.
But then, a shadow streaked across the moonlit sky.
A massive eagle, its wings spanning wider than any creature William had ever seen, swooped down and grabbed him in its talons. The force of the catch jolted him, but the eagle's grip was firm.
It carried him high above the cliffs, its sharp eyes gleaming with intelligence. But William's relief was short-lived as he realized the eagle wasn't rescuing him—it was carrying him toward its nest.
The distant cries of eaglets echoed in his ears as the great bird dropped him into the nest. William braced for impact, landing hard among the twisted branches and animal bones that littered the nest.
As he struggled to sit up, the eagle circled above, watching him intently. William's heart sank. He was no savior or chosen one now. Just prey.
"Stay still."
The soft, melodic voice startled him. He turned his head to see a figure perched on the edge of the nest. Silver hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes gleamed with an unnatural light.
It was Alice.
The vampire princess moved with effortless grace, her presence commanding yet strangely soothing. She stepped into the nest, her gaze fixed on William.
"You're lucky I was nearby," she said, kneeling beside him.
William coughed, trying to sit up. "I don't feel lucky."
Alice's lips quirked into a faint smile, but her eyes betrayed her concern. She gently placed her hand on his chest, and he felt a soothing energy radiate from her touch.
"You're weak," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "You've lost something important, haven't you?"
He hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "I made a choice," he said finally.
Alice studied him for a moment before nodding. "I see. Then it's my turn to make a choice."
Before he could respond, she leaned closer, her fangs gleaming in the moonlight.
William tensed as her fangs pierced his neck. The sensation was strange—not painful, but not entirely pleasant either. He felt a warmth spread through his body, mingling with the void left by his lost bloodline.
Alice withdrew quickly, her eyes glowing faintly. "Drink," she commanded, biting her own wrist and holding it to his lips.
"I can't—" William began, but Alice silenced him with a stern look.
"Drink," she repeated. "It's the only way to stabilize you."
Reluctantly, William obeyed. The taste of her blood was unlike anything he had ever experienced—rich, powerful, and alive with an energy that seemed to awaken something deep within him.
As the blood coursed through his veins, he felt a strange transformation taking place. His senses sharpened, his strength returning in waves. But beneath it all, there was a new presence—a foreign energy that hummed alongside his own.
Alice watched him carefully, her expression calm. "You'll live," she said simply. "But you need rest."
William met her gaze, a mixture of gratitude and confusion in his eyes. "Why did you save me?"
Alice tilted her head, her silver hair catching the moonlight. "Because I could," she said softly. "And because it was the right thing to do."
Her words were simple, but they struck a chord in William's heart. As he drifted into unconsciousness, her image remained in his mind—a beacon of kindness in a world filled with betrayal.
William smiled inwardly: "Just follow the script from the previous life."