Viktor slammed his fists against the table, the sound reverberating through the small war room. His face was red with fury, his eyes burning with barely contained rage.
"This is the third time it's happened!"
The gathered leaders exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from indifference to unease.
"Viktor, calm down," Marcus interjected, his tone measured. "Don't forget the merits. She brought back the bullets. Now we have the blueprint."
"Yes, and at what cost?" Viktor snapped, his glare cutting through the room. "Four of our elite fighters, dead!"
"And it's not her fault."
"How is it not her fault?" Viktor spat. "Tell me, Marcus. This is the fourth time she's gone on a mission with our men and returned alone—with nothing but the news of their deaths!"
Silence stretched between them.
"She's powerful," Marcus finally said.
"Yes, and perhaps too powerful to be trusted." Viktor leaned forward, his voice turning sharp. "Humans like us—purebloods—are rare. This is our fight. These half-breeds, these hybrids of humans and supernatural creatures… they don't belong here."
Marcus exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Viktor, we need them. Their abilities give us an edge. They are human in the end. And their makers won't accept them."
Viktor scoffed but said nothing more.
For now.
Ariel stepped into the base, her body sore, her mind weighed down by exhaustion. She reported everything she had seen, done, and fought. The bullets she retrieved were the only thing that saved her from scrutiny. Without them, she would have been branded as a liability—a dangerous one.
But even now, trust issues lingered.
She knew it.
She had always known it.
No one trusted a fighter who was too fast, too agile, too intelligent. She was neither fully human nor fully supernatural, yet she surpassed most in combat. That terrified them.
Especially Viktor.
As she left the meeting, she spotted Marcus coming out of the elders' camp. She quickened her pace.
"Sir Marcus," she called.
He turned, weary but attentive.
"Thank you for trusting me. I know I've given you a hard time."
Marcus sighed. "Silly child. I've seen the hatred you harbor for vampires after what they did to your family. I trust you because I know that hatred drives you."
Ariel bowed her head slightly in appreciation.
"Don't worry about the internal politics," Marcus added. "You're one of our best fighters. As long as I'm here, I'll protect you."
Ariel hesitated before asking, "Speaking of protection, have you checked the rodent I brought back? There's nothing wrong with it, right?"
Marcus gave her a strange look but shook his head. "I found no anomalies. No magic. It's just a simple animal."
Ariel let out a relieved breath. "That's good then."
"Why?" Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to keep it?"
She gave a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I… I feel a deep connection with it. It's hard to explain."
Marcus chuckled. "Maybe it's your spirit animal. Just be cautious. I'll allow you to keep it, but remember, it's badly wounded. It will take time and care for it to heal."
"Got it, Sir Marcus!" Ariel grinned before heading back to her room.
Back in her quarters, Ariel gathered her bedding and wrapped them tightly around the tiny hamster.
"There, little fella. You shouldn't be feeling cold now. I'll try to buy a healing potion for you soon."
The rodent blinked up at her, its dark eyes gleaming with something almost unreadable.
To Damon, the scene was utterly absurd.
This stupid human.
Did she not realize the absurdity of cradling a being like him? Of pressing him against her warmth, completely vulnerable, unguarded? If she had even the faintest idea of what he was capable of, she would have thrown him into the fire.
And yet, here she was.
Tucking him in.
Calling him cute.
Damon fought every primal urge to sink his fangs into her throat—especially when she:
—Played with his ears, stroking them absentmindedly.
—Tucked him between the softness of her breasts, pressing him against her heartbeat.
—Tugged his tail just for fun.
—Caressed his tiny rodent body without a single ounce of hesitation.
It was infuriating.
If he wasn't still recovering, he would have drained her dry on the spot. But he needed more time. His wounds were too severe for a quick recovery, and the last place anyone would suspect a vampire hiding… was in a human shelter.
So he endured it.
He let her take him in, feed him medicinal herbs, bathe him, smother him in warmth.
Until he was ready.
Until he could make his move.
None of them were going to survive.
Stupid, naive human.
Ariel studied her hamster, tilting her head.
"Hmm, I need to feed you well. I really feel a connection with you… Are you my spirit animal?"
Damon froze.
A spirit animal?
This human—this reckless, oblivious woman—thought he was her spirit animal?
Ariel sighed dramatically. "Such a pity to have such a weak spiritual beast."
Damon: "..."
His eye twitched.
"It's okay," Ariel added, patting his head. "Even if you suck, I'll protect you."
Damon barely suppressed the urge to throw himself off the bed. Instead, he leaped away from her arms, landing further up the mattress and firmly turning his back to her.
He closed his eyes.
Ignored her.
Pretended he couldn't hear a single word of this nonsense.
Ariel just laughed. "Oh boy, you are one hell of a hamster."
Days passed.
Damon's body continued healing, slowly but surely.
A part of him knew he could speed up the process if he just fed—if he just drank. But the risk was too great. The humans here despised vampires above all else. If they discovered what he truly was, they wouldn't just kill him.
They would humiliate him.
And the last thing he needed was to be caged and paraded around like some trophy.
So he endured.
Until, one night, while Ariel was deep in sleep, his body finally reached a threshold.
A brilliant, golden light filled the room for a moment—then faded just as quickly.
Where there had once been a small, fluffy rodent…
Now stood a man.
Tall, striking, and stark naked.
Damon gazed down at Ariel, her body curled up in her blankets, breathing softly.
His sharp eyes roamed over her, lingering on her exposed neck.
She's so unaware… so vulnerable.
Destructive thoughts filled his mind. He could take her. Tear apart her peace. Drown her in passion.
But he shook the thoughts away.
Not now.
Instead, he climbed back into bed.
Still asleep, Ariel instinctively reached for him, pulling him close. Her arms wrapped around his torso, pressing her face against his bare chest.
"Warm," she murmured, sighing in contentment.
Damon stiffened, his rapid heartbeat betraying him.
Ariel frowned in her sleep. "Why so loud?"
Her voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it sent a strange sensation through him.
Damon closed his eyes.
She was trouble.
She was his trouble.
And soon…
She would belong to him.