by Sara Snow
The cloaked figure stepped closer to me, and I realized he had no scent. “Call me Arden. And you must be the white wolf, Elinor. I would ask my companion—” He nodded to an elf standing behind him. “—to release you and let you shift, but I don’t think that would be a good idea."
“Why not? I’m a darling. I don't bite, really.”
He stepped closer to me, then stopped. Even at this distance, I couldn’t see a face beneath the large hood of his cloak. "So, you're a female firstborn? I expected more."
"Oh really? Because you are exactly what I expected—a piece of scum. What did you do to these supernaturals?"
"Listen, you two got your little wolf friend back, right? Great. Now I'd suggest you stay out of business that doesn't concern you."
"You’re joking, right? Everyone we know is in danger because of you. You murdered an innocent woman—a woman we loved—and for that, I promise you, you're going to burn in hell."
“Well, you see, the problem is . . .” He pulled his cloak off and rolled his shoulders. “I’ve already been there.”
After getting a good look at him, I believed him.
He wore dark gray pants and no shirt. His chest was bare except for a symbol, which spanned from his collarbone down to his waist and looked totally different than the one carved into the other supernaturals. His arms, legs, and fingers all appeared to have been sewn on, and much of his skin was made up of different skin tones. His face, neck, and chest were the only parts that shared the same pale complexion.
“So, were you born like that, or . . .” I drawled, and beside me, Cyrus chuckled.
“Funny. But no. I was reborn.” Arden’s green eyes narrowed. The stitches around them made it look as if his eyes had been removed and replaced, and it was hard to tell what species he belonged to. Especially because he had no scent. He looked at Cyrus, and then at me. “Much the same way these supernaturals were reborn. My master has plans. Plans for this world and these supernaturals . . . I am needed.”
I growled. "And what plans might those be, huh?"
“What did your master do to them?” Cyrus asked. I tried to look at him, but turning my head caused a thorn to sink deeper into my neck.
I felt blood running down my body from multiple puncture wounds, the smell of it rich in the air. Our only option now was to keep Arden talking until Theanos returned, but I doubted he had even reached the bar yet.
We were caught.
I stopped moving and focused on Arden as he walked away, coming to stand beside an elf. He patted her cheek gently, only she neither blinked nor moved. She just stared dead ahead, like a doll waiting to be played with.
“What did your master do to them?” Cyrus asked again.
“You won’t get any answers from me on that. But you should know, they are already dead, so there is no saving them,” Arden answered. “Now they are merely puppets. There are more of them than you can imagine, and they only have one purpose.”
It was as I had expected. The elf in the dungeon had definitely been dead when we were standing over her. The mark was likely what had reanimated her. But why? What purpose would these poor souls serve?
“Where is she?” I glared at him. “Where is my friend’s mother? Give her body to us.”
“I don’t know what they did with her body.”
"You were among the first, weren't you?" Cyrus guessed, and Arden frowned. “You were among the first that your master experimented on. That’s why you don’t look like the others. You’ve retained your consciousness.”
“Right you are. We weren't murdered like these stupid things. There are others like me who were enhanced.”
I didn’t know why I expected him to hold any sympathy for the supernaturals whose lives—and afterlives—had been destroyed, but I did. He was speaking so casually about what his masters had done to these innocents. He didn't even seem to care that he, himself, had been turned into a doll—one that had been pulled apart and sewn back together, and poorly at that.
The longer he spoke, the more I wanted to rip his throat out. His eyes changed from green to black, revealing he was, in fact, a demon. Or was he, if indeed his eyes had been replaced? And now that I thought about it, we hadn’t encountered any vampires or demons with the same mark as these reanimated supernaturals yet.
Did that mean vampires or demons were behind all of this?
"It took a while for my master to find the right method—one that would offer absolute obedience."
"Why? And who the hell is your master?" I asked.
The corner of his mouth curved in a smirk. "I guess you'll find out soon enough, right?" He held his hands out, his palms facing upward, and his smirk turned into a look filled with venom. "Then again, maybe you two won't be around to see it."
On his left hand, lightning danced across his fingers as if he were a witch. On the right, black mist, like that belonging to a demon, appeared.
So I was right. There’s no way to tell if he was originally a demon or a witch. Whatever experiment was done to him has somehow given him the ability to use powers from multiple supernaturals.
The mark on his chest glowed, and his eyes rolled backwards. "This world needs cleansing. It needs a new ruler, and it will receive one. So far, you two are the only ones to get this far. But this is where it ends."
His eyes opened, and a lightning bolt from his hand struck the ground in front of me. I called on my wolf, wincing as the thorns sunk deeper into my skin as I tried to shift, but I refused to die without a fight. Cyrus's words from earlier suddenly filled my mind. I couldn't hold back. I'd done enough of that. And the last time, my friend had died horribly because of it.
If Meeka had been here now, she wouldn't have let a few thorns keep her trapped. She had believed in her strength as an Alpha-born.
My body shook as my bones began to break. After Meeka's death and my father's betrayal, I’d lost my drive to be a warrior. I’d allowed myself to be bullied into living with the choices others forced on me.
But not anymore.
“You killed someone I loved,” Cyrus roared, the rage in his voice echoing the wrath building inside me. I howled loudly, creating a backdrop for the words he threw at Arden like weapons. “You hurt the only woman on this earth who has kept me from becoming my father. I’ll drag you to hell myself if I have to!”
Black smoke rose from the roots holding me, and I watched as they began to rot. Arden’s smug expression vanished as he looked first at me, and then at Cyrus.
The mark on his chest burned brighter, and the supernaturals surrounding us moved as if to attack us again. “It doesn’t matter what you do, Cyrus.” He closed his eyes, and his mark pulsated. “I'll destroy everything within a hundred miles. You can't stop us. You can't stop me!”
I broke free as soon as the roots holding me rotted away, but an elf with the mark branded onto his cheek tackled me before I had time to think. We tumbled to the ground. I forced my strength and power into my legs, then kicked him off me, sending his body flying into the trees. I jumped to my feet and looked around.
Three witches were holding their hands up to the sky, causing lightning to rain down on Cyrus. Cyrus was blinded by his rage, the black mist around him morphing into blue flames. Those flames were the only advantage we had, but they came with a terrible risk.
“Don’t!”
Cyrus's body stiffened for a second, as if realizing how close he was to losing control. He allowed his flames to die away but continued to stalk Arden, who was being shielded by witches. The puppet (that was the only way I could think of him) was chanting soft words I didn't understand, and the energy in the air started to feel warm. If he was some type of walking bomb, we'd all be done for.
Cyrus dodged a lightning bolt as I shifted into my human form to battle another elf. I needed the agility of my human form without the body mass of my final wolf form. My claws slit the elf’s throat, and I continued moving towards Arden with Cyrus, but I paused when he jumped back. Something flas
hed before him in a blur, and an elf to his left was beheaded.
The surrounding supernaturals started falling like leaves from a tree, and I turned around quickly, trying to figure out what was happening.
“None of you will survive!” Arden roared as his eyes opened, and steam rose off his body.
The chaos around us came to a stop as a hand appeared through his chest from behind, and his black eye reverted to green. Blood spilled from his lips as he looked down at the clawed hand poking through his chest.
The pulsing mark on his chest faded, and the clawed hand retracted. Arden fell to the ground, his lifeless body hitting the forest floor hard, adding to the pile of dead bodies around us.
For a moment, I thought maybe Theanos had returned. Then a familiar scent drifted to my nostrils, and my skin grew warm as I found myself unable to look away from the man who now stood in front of us.
“H-how?” I stuttered before Cyrus moved in front of me protectively.
Will wiped the blood coating his hand on his pants, then stepped forward and into the sun. “Looks like I got here just in time.”
4
Elinor
Cyrus glared at Will as I stood frozen in shock. Will, a vampire, was standing in the sun as if it was nothing. There wasn't even steam rising from his body.
He was just standing there, staring at us.
Was this even Will, or merely someone who looked exactly like him? I couldn't muster the words to ask as he stepped forward but stopped when Cyrus pointed a finger at him.
“Stay right where you are. What the hell are you?”
Will sighed. “I think you and I went through this before. You know, when you found me in the woods with Elinor?”
This man looked like Will, spoke like Will, and had Will’s memories. But how could he possibly be Will?
“How are you out during the daytime?” Cyrus demanded.
Ignoring Cyrus, Will’s intense blue eyes slid to me. I read the remorse in them, and my chest tightened painfully. How could he have kept a secret like this from me?
Then again, why was I surprised? He'd been the secretive type since the first moment we met. But this, this was unimaginable. A vampire who could walk in the sun . . .
“Elinor?”
I shook my head at him.
“I can explain.”
Cyrus lowered the hand he had raised at Will, though he still kept me behind him. "Then do that. How are you able to be out in the daylight?"
Will didn't answer right away. I couldn't look away when his blue eyes pierced into mine. A part of me wanted to run to him, desperate for him to hold me in his arms once again. But another part of me was telling me to remain right where I was.
Looking at Will, I wondered if I really knew him as well as I thought I had. Because right now, he seemed like a complete stranger.
In the sunlight, his dark hair seemed even more beautiful. His blue eyes shone, though they still held the same intensity. And his skin was a stunning porcelain cream, not as pale as it was when he was in cold-blooded vampire-mode.
I needed to understand how his heart could be beating now, but other times, still and lifeless. Why was he so unlike a typical vampire?
"I kept my soul after I was changed centuries ago," Will admitted.
I stepped out from behind Cyrus, needing to hear every word of this explanation.
Will offered us a small smile. “I have a beating heart, I have warm blood in my veins, and I can walk in the sun because I'm not dead and soulless like other vampires.”
“That’s impossible,” Cyrus murmured.
“Yet here I stand.” Will’s eyes drifted to me. “I wouldn’t lie to you—I never have. I'm the same person you’ve always known. I’m just able to walk in the sun the way you do. I might have secrets, but I’ve never lied. I didn't tell you about it because it’s not something I talk about. If word got out that there was a vampire that didn’t have to go into stasis during the daylight, the supernatural community would panic.”
“They’d either assume that there are more vampires like you who can walk in the sun or that vampires, as a species, are evolving,” Cyrus rubbed at his chin. “Are there any more like you?”
“No. I'm the only one of my kind. I'm a vampire, yes, but also . . . not.”
I could almost feel the grief in his words and realized I had heard that tone in his voice before—when he’d told me he understood what it was like to have a life you didn't want forced on you.
While he was entitled to his privacy, I wanted to tell him that he could have told me. He should have known that I wouldn’t have revealed his secrets. We'd tried and failed to grow closer, and each time it felt like we were finally getting the chance, another wall arose between us. Looking at him now, I wanted to run to him.
Instead, I kept my fists clenched behind my back and stood my ground.
After the date we’d had in the dragon's forest, I thought we’d forged a genuine connection. It felt like we’d taken a huge step forward, and I’d been elated that he had finally been opening up to me. But apparently, he held back this big secret the whole time.
I felt angry and frustrated that what was between us was so stagnant.
“How?” I finally spoke. “How were you able to keep your soul? If it happened to you, why can’t it happen to anyone who’s been turned?”
"It just . . . can't." He exhaled heavily and looked up at the sky for a moment. A pang of worry ran through me. He’d been out in the sun now for a while with no consequences. But I couldn’t help fearing that at any moment, he would burst into flames.
I bit down on my lip, trying to focus on the issue on hand—not my feelings for him.
“No other vampire can gain my ability because . . .” He took another deep breath. “I'm of royal blood. That's how I got the power to begin with.”
My face scrunched up with confusion. “What? You’re royalty? What are you saying?”
“You’re a general,” Cyrus mumbled, obviously realizing something I hadn’t figured out yet. What did it mean to be a vampire general? "If you gained the ability to walk in the sun after you were turned, that means you were . . ."
“Yes.” Will exhaled with a nod.
I looked from one man to the other. “What the hell are you two talking about? Can both of you speak in code some other time?”
“He’s of royal blood, Elinor. He's a general, a leader among the vampires.” At my continued look of confusion, Cyrus rubbed his temple with growing frustration. “Elinor, what this means is that Will is the son of the Vampire Queen.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Who’d ever believe it? An Alpha-born werewolf has been dating a vampire prince.”
Will
I hadn’t wanted Elinor to find out the truth this way. I had planned to tell her I was a prince among my kind in my own time and after the upheaval of her friend Skye’s abduction had been resolved. Our afternoon in the dragon forest solidified my decision to be with her. She brought wonder back into the life of a vampire who had lived for far too long.
The way she admired the creatures in the forest that day had reminded me of the curiosity and appreciation for life I used to have but had long since forgotten.
When I first met her, I craved her, but mainly to satisfy my hunger. She had presented me with a challenge: prey who wouldn't be like the others, who would have fought me to the death. And I wanted that challenge. When we met that evening so long ago, I’d sensed not only her fear but also her curiosity. I’d found it strangely appealing. Instead of running from me, she’d stood her ground, and it made me desperate to learn how her blood would taste. I had wondered if I would be able to taste her naïve courage there.
But when I saw her attacked by those hairless and bloodthirsty Bleeders, a different sensation washed over me—a desire to protect her. After seeing how bravely she fought, I recognized an undeniable spark, a fire within her that couldn’t be contained. And from then on, I was like a moth to her flame.
Holding off on
telling her I could walk in the sun wasn’t a decision I’d made because I didn’t trust her. The right moment to tell her just never presented itself, and telling her about my ability would’ve forced me to explain how I’d gained it.
I would’ve had to admit that my mother was the Vampire Queen. The last thing I wanted to do was chase her away, and I knew that information was likely to do it. There was a time when I’d hunted the other beings of this earth without restraint or remorse. Even my own kind had feared me. But I grew tired of being cruel, and I soon became an outcast among my kind. They said I wasn’t one of them. And I certainly wasn’t a human either.
Many people still feared me, but only one person loved me—my mother. Although I recognized what she felt for me wasn’t really love. It was more that she took pride in the fact that I was her son, that my gifts made me special among vampires and I belonged to her.
Yet Elinor didn’t discriminate against me, even after she realized I was a vampire. To her, I was just a man. She saw my red eyes and felt my cool skin, and still, she was more curious than afraid. She didn't run away from me . . . even though she really should have.
Because of who I was, our friendship posed an even greater risk of starting a war between her kind and mine. Still, a part of me couldn't be without her snappy, I'm-doing-whatever-I-want attitude. She had the ambition to go after the life she wanted, the drive to follow her dreams regardless of what others thought.
Her inner light brightened the dark world I’d lived in for centuries, and I couldn’t be without her.
Will
After we returned to the bar, Elinor and Cyrus went in search of Skye, who was being treated for her injuries by Saleem. When Elinor learned her friend would recover, I heard her frantic heartbeat finally slow down.
During the entire journey back, she hadn’t said a word to me, and I couldn't blame her. I glanced at her sitting across the room, watching as Saleem cast a spell on Arden's severed head, and I could tell she was trying to not look my way. I didn’t regret following her after they’d left the bar looking for Skye. I had kept my distance, not wanting to interfere . . . until I had to. If I hadn’t acted when I did, they would have died.