The warmth of Alex's hand still lingered in Liam's palm, a grounding heat that calmed the fraying edge of his instincts. Honesty. No fangs. That was the promise.
But even promises could tremble beneath the weight of what stirred beyond the trees.
A snap of a branch. Far. Too far to hear with human ears, but Liam's head tilted slightly, his smile faltering. He tried not to let the shift show. Not tonight. Not now.
"What?" Alex asked, catching the minute tension.
Liam shook his head. "Nothing. Just thought I heard something."
Alex squinted, stepping away, his hand slipping from Liam's. "You heard something, didn't you?"
"It's probably just a fox." Liam forced a smile, trying to ignore the roiling warning in his gut. "Or maybe a deer."
Alex looked toward the trees that outlined the estate's back lawn, now veiled in the thickening curtain of twilight. "You said honesty."
"I did."
"So be honest. Are we safe?"
Liam hesitated. No. That would've been the honest answer.
Instead, he whispered, "We will be."
But in the woods, something moved again. Closer.
Liam's eyes darkened, and for a split second, the illusion of calm cracked like a mirror under pressure. "We should go inside."
Alex frowned, but nodded. "Okay."
They walked quickly across the back lawn, Liam glancing over his shoulder more than once. He was calculating. Whatever was out there wasn't vampire. The scent was wrong. Feral. Sour, like rotting leaves soaked in copper. And it was tracking them.
He caught a flicker of motion—low to the ground, fast.
The door clicked shut behind them, and Liam turned the deadbolt.
Harper was in the kitchen, still in her socks, texting on her phone. She looked up when she saw them.
"You guys are late. I thought this was a school night," she teased, but her smile faltered when she saw Liam's face.
"What's wrong?"
"Get the salt," Liam said flatly.
Harper blinked. "What?"
"Now, Harper."
Without asking again, she turned and went to the spice drawer.
Alex was watching both of them. "Salt? What—what is that going to do?"
"Salt is protection," Liam said, moving swiftly around the front of the house, checking the locks. "For humans. Mostly. For… other things, it's a deterrent."
"Other things?" Alex echoed.
Harper handed Liam the container, her phone forgotten on the counter. "What is it?"
"I don't know. But it's close."
"You heard it?"
"I smelled it."
That chilled even Harper. She stepped back instinctively. "Do we need to leave?"
"No. If we run, we draw attention. We make ourselves prey. Right now, we hold the line."
Liam grabbed a handful of salt and began pouring it in thin, even lines along the windowsills, the thresholds, and the fireplace. Harper mirrored him on the opposite side of the house.
Alex watched, unsure what to do with his hands, his heart pounding. He had just begun to trust Liam again. And now… whatever had scented his blood was outside.
"Why now?" he asked quietly. "Why did it come now?"
Liam didn't look up from the line of salt he was spreading at the base of the door. "Because I bit you."
Alex swallowed hard.
"Blood calls to blood," Liam said, voice tight. "Especially the kind that's not supposed to exist."
Alex blinked. "What do you mean?"
Liam turned to him, eyes sharp. "Your blood doesn't smell normal. It's not just human. There's something else in you, Alex. And I don't think I've been the only one looking for it."
The words knocked the breath from Alex's lungs.
"I'm not—what are you saying?"
"I don't know yet. But whatever's out there… it wants you."
A sharp sound split the night.
Screeching.
It wasn't an animal. It wasn't human either.
Liam was already moving, dragging Alex away from the front window. Harper switched off the lights, plunging the room into half-darkness.
Outside, just beyond the iron gate, something paced.
Alex couldn't see it clearly, but there was a shimmer, a shifting in the air—like heatwaves rising from asphalt, warping the space around it. Two pale eyes glowed in the dark.
It saw him.
And it grinned.
"What is that?" Alex whispered.
Liam stared, voice low. "I've never seen one before. But I've heard stories. They're called Hollowborn."
Harper inhaled sharply.
"They're older than vampires. Thought to be extinct. Feeders of energy, memory, fear. They don't need to drink your blood—they drink you. Until there's nothing left."
"Why now?" Harper asked, shaking. "Why here?"
"Because Alex bled," Liam murmured.
And suddenly, the thing outside lunged.
It hit the gate hard enough to rattle the iron, but it didn't break through.
Liam stepped in front of Alex, instinctively protective. "Salt lines are holding. For now."
Alex was staring at the monster beyond the gate, breath shallow. His voice came soft, shaking: "It knows me."
Liam turned. "What?"
"I—I've seen it before. In dreams. Before I moved here. Before I met you."
"Dreams?" Harper repeated.
"I didn't think they were real. It would watch me, whisper things I couldn't understand. But I felt like it was waiting. Like it was hunting."
Liam's jaw clenched. "You should've told me."
"I didn't remember until now," Alex said, voice rising. "I thought it was just nightmares."
The thing outside snarled again, low and grating, like metal dragged across gravel.
"Okay," Liam said, stepping back. "We're not safe here."
"But you said—"
"I was wrong. It's not going to stop. It's testing the barrier, learning us. It'll come back again. Stronger."
"So where do we go?" Harper asked.
"There's a safehouse. My family owns it. Warded. Old magic. No one can enter unless invited."
He turned to Alex. "But if we go, we leave now. Before that thing circles around. Before it calls others."
"Others?" Harper paled.
"Yes. They're never alone."
Alex nodded. "Let's go."
Within minutes, they were packed. No time for luggage. No time for explanations.
Harper grabbed her jacket and a baseball bat—because of course she would.
Liam led them out the back, through a hidden path that wound behind the garage, far from where the Hollowborn prowled. The sky above had turned pitch black, and even the stars seemed to flicker uneasily.
Alex kept glancing back.
The trees whispered.
Something was following.
They ran.
They didn't stop until they reached the edge of the safehouse—a cabin, ancient and ivy-covered, hidden within a crescent of pines. Liam moved fast, muttering an incantation under his breath. The door opened with a creak, and the air inside smelled of herbs, earth, and firewood.
"Get in," he said.
They did.
Once the door shut behind them, Liam sealed it with a glyph carved into the wood.
"Nothing gets through unless I say so," he said. "We're safe. For now."
Alex collapsed onto a wooden bench, chest heaving. His mind was spinning. A Hollowborn. Magic. Salt lines. Dreams that were real. And his blood—his blood was different?
He looked at Liam. "What am I?"
Liam didn't answer at first. He just looked at Alex like he wanted to protect him from every answer.
"I don't know," he admitted. "But we'll figure it out. Together."
Alex nodded slowly, but his eyes flicked to the window, beyond the thick glass.
The trees were still. The wind had stopped.
But the silence was heavier than before.
Elsewhere.
In the ruins beyond the ridge, the Hollowborn waited.
Its grin had widened. It had scented the boy.
And more than blood, it had tasted the old power coiled beneath his skin—ancient, untapped, waiting.
The boy didn't know it yet.
But the Hollowborn did.
He wasn't just prey.
He was the key.
To everything.
And soon, the others would come.