Ever since the first time Sapphira turned beneath the full moon, her life had been divided into two halves.
During the day, she was human enough to pass unnoticed. She laughed when customers joked with her at work.
She smiled when neighbors greeted her. She pretended to be ordinary, even when she never truly felt it.
But when the moon swelled and silvered the sky, she became something that had to be hidden.
Every full moon, without fail, she was locked inside the secret underground room beneath the Clifford residence.
Thick stone walls surrounded her. Iron chains were fixed into the floor and the walls, not to punish her,
but to protect everyone she loved. The locks had been reinforced over the years, shaped by fear and love combined.
It was never cruelty. It was survival.
Nathan stayed with her every time.
He never left her alone.
He sat outside the heavy door with his back against the wall, sometimes speaking softly to her even when she could not answer. Sometimes he told her stories about nothing, about town gossip, about old memories from school, about his father's terrible jokes, just to remind her that she was still human, still Sapphira, still the girl he had grown up with.
Sometimes he said nothing at all and simply listened to her screams, to the sound of chains rattling, to the pain in her voice,
as if that was the only thing keeping her tethered to the world.
Another year passed.
At twenty-two, Sapphira worked the late shifts at a retro fast-food chain in Stonebridge.
The place smelled of oil, sugar, and old grease, and the neon lights flickered like they were tired of pretending to be cheerful.
Old songs played from a broken jukebox that sometimes skipped, sometimes repeated the same line over and over.
She liked the routine.
She liked that people barely looked at her long enough to notice her eyes.
She liked that for a few hours, she could pretend she was just another girl working for tips and minimum wage,
not someone waiting for the moon to decide her fate.
Nathan, now twenty-five, had become the youngest sheriff Eldermere had ever appointed.
He replaced his father after retirement, and he carried both pride and weight on his shoulders.
The badge on his chest felt heavier than it looked. He took the job seriously, maybe too seriously,
because he knew how fragile peace really was in a town that lived so close to forests and secrets.
That night, close to midnight, Stonebridge was quiet in the uneasy way towns became when danger was close but unseen.
A teenage girl ran through the streets barefoot and shaking, her breath coming out in broken sobs.
Her fear echoed against brick walls and shuttered windows.
Her lungs burned as she pushed herself harder, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure it could be heard.
Three men chased her.
They were drunk and drugged, laughing too loudly, stumbling yet relentless.
Their voices were slurred, their movements careless, but their intent was clear.
They cornered her in a narrow alley where the light barely reached. She begged and cried,
her hands shaking as she tried to cover herself. They hurt her until her knees gave out
and she collapsed on the ground, shaking and exposed.
Their laughter filled the alley as they tore her clothes apart, enjoying her terror, taking their time,
feeding on her fear as much as anything else.
Then a cold voice cut through the darkness.
"I am warning you. Let go of the girl."
The voice was calm, controlled, and terrifying in its restraint.
The men froze.
When they turned, they saw a shadow standing at the edge of the alley, unmoving.
Crimson eyes gleamed in the dark, glowing just enough to be unmistakable.
They knew what he was.
Panic struck them all at once. They screamed as they ran, stumbling over each other in their desperation,
vanishing into the night like rats fleeing a fire.
The girl was left behind, curled on the ground, crying, her body trembling uncontrollably.
He stepped closer, his presence heavy but controlled, like a storm held back by will alone.
"You should not be here in the dark streets at midnight," he said evenly. "Go home."
He turned away without waiting for a response.
But the girl stood.
Her legs trembled as she followed him, and she reached out with shaking fingers,
gripping the hem of his coat just enough to stop him.
He turned slowly.
"What are you trying to do?" he asked, his voice low and sharp. "Aren't you afraid of me?"
She swallowed hard.
"I do not have a home," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"Master... could you turn me? I want to become your kind."
His lips curved into a brief, humorless smirk.
"You do not know what you are saying."
"Master, please," she begged. "I will serve you the best I can. I just don't want to be weak anymore."
He looked at her for a long moment, his jaw tightening, something conflicted flickering in his eyes.
Then he took a slow breath, stepped back, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
The alley fell silent.
The girl stood there trembling, confusion and despair tangling inside her chest.
Then another shadow emerged from the darkness.
Soft laughter echoed off the walls.
"That arrogant Gabriel Corvin," a voice said lazily. "How can he be the heir when he is that weak?"
A blond-haired vampire stepped into the dim light, his smile slow and cruel.
He approached the girl and gently lifted her chin with two fingers, forcing her to meet his glowing eyes.
"Hey, little girl," he said smoothly. "What is your name?"
"My name is Gwen," she whispered.
"Well, Gwen," he said, smiling wider. "Nice to meet you. I am Damien. And I heard you want to become one of us."
Before she could answer, pain exploded at her neck.
His fangs pierced her skin, and she gasped as her strength drained away.
Her vision blurred as he drank deeply, until her body sagged against him.
Then he bit his wrist and pressed it to her lips.
"Drink," he murmured.
The venom burned through her veins as she obeyed. Fire ripped through her body.
Her bones ached and shifted. Her nails lengthened and darkened. Her skin paled unnaturally.
Her eyes bled red before settling into a glowing crimson.
Her scream tore through the night and then faded into silence as the change claimed her.
The morning came with chaos.
Three bodies were found lined up in front of the police station, pale and lifeless.
Two puncture wounds marked each neck.
The men were identified as some of the most wanted criminals in the region.
The news spread quickly through Eldermere and all the way to Viremont.
At the Clifford house, Nathan sat with his father, coffee growing cold in his hands as the television blared.
"The vampire killing criminals is back," Mr. Clifford muttered.
Nathan's jaw tightened. "I just hope innocent people won't be next. If they are active again, we have to secure this town."
He left immediately, patrolling the streets, announcing a curfew as town officers moved to enforce new safety measures.
In Lunaris Hollow, the wolves gathered.
The air was tense. Old fears stirred. Whispers of prophecy rose again,
carried on the wind like a warning no one wanted to hear.
And within the Obsidian Citadel, another meeting was underway.
Freyr sat upon his throne, his presence commanding silence without a single word.
Gabriel stood at his side, his expression unreadable, his jaw tight. Selene remained close, her gaze sharp and calculating.
The courtroom doors opened, and Damien entered without remorse.
Amber stood beside him, her hand wrapped around his arm, while other vampires gathered, drawn by unrest.
"You have caused unnecessary noise," Freyr said calmly.
Damien smiled. "I merely reminded the world we still exist."
"This is not your country to corrupt," Gabriel said, his voice low, restrained, and dangerous.
Damien laughed softly. "Then perhaps you should protect it better."
The room filled with tension, power clashing silently.
Freyr's eyes darkened.
"The Obsidian Citadel has decided," Freyr said. "You will be punished, Damien."
Selene stepped forward at once.
"Master, please. Let me fix this. Let us find the girl. She will take the punishment instead. Not him."
Amber nodded quickly. "It was her existence that caused this. Not Damien."
Gabriel turned sharply. "This is wrong. She was turned without consent."
Freyr's gaze hardened. "You forget your place, Gabriel."
Gabriel clenched his fists, knowing he had no authority to oppose Freyr's final decision.
On the forgotten side of the country, in the Veiled Moors, Lenora awakened.
The eldest sister of Damien and Selene, the first vampire Freyr ever turned, the rebel who had been cast away.
Her servants knelt as she rose from her long sleep.
They told her about the commotion in Obsidian Citadel.
Lenora smirked.
"It seems the world is finally ready for me again," she said.
She left the Veiled Moors and passed through Silverpine Range, Eldermere, and Stonebridge,
attacking every human she came across, leaving terror in her wake.
All blame fell on Gwen.
Damien knew the truth. His power was instinct, not knowing the future.
He saw things happening and things that had already happened. He knew Lenora was responsible.
But he stayed silent.
He would rather protect his sister than save Gwen.
Eventually, Gwen was captured, terrified and confused, hiding in a cave between Stonebridge and Eldermere.
Then she was brought to the Obsidian Citadel.
She was tied to a pole beneath an opening in the roof. Vampire royalty surrounded her in cold silence.
Gabriel was there and their eyes met.
"I told you," his voice echoed in her mind.
"You did not know what you were wishing for. I am sorry. There is nothing I can do to save you now."
"Don't feel sad, my master," Gwen answered softly in his thoughts.
"I am alright. I want to rest now. I am happy to have met you."
The ceiling opened wider. Sunlight poured in.
Gwen screamed as flames consumed her, her body burning in a light too pure and too cruel.
Gabriel clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he watched her turn to ash.
He walked out first.
Back in Stonebridge, Sapphira waited after work, her unease growing. Nathan was late.
Her wolf instincts stirred.She sniffed the air.
Danger is approaching Nathan.
She followed Nathan's scent, running even though it was not a full moon. Her body was weak,
her blood only half-breed wolf, but fear gave her strength.
She stumbled on the road and fell, tears spilling as she clenched her fists against the road.
"What is the use of this blood," she cried, "if I cannot even protect my family?"
Randall felt her despair.From his prison, he howled.
The moon seemed to listen.
Sapphira's body trembled. Bones ached. Her breath came in ragged gasps as fur broke through her skin
and her senses sharpened beyond human limits.
Slowly, painfully, she transformed.
Now in her wolf form, she howled and ran.
By the time she arrived, Lenora was already in front of Nathan, her eyes glowing with cruel delight.
Sapphira attacked without hesitation.
Claws met fangs. Growls met laughter. The fight was brutal, wild, and uneven.
Sapphira fought with desperation and love, while Lenora fought with centuries of experience and cruelty.
Sapphira was thrown aside, her body slamming into the ground.
She shifted back into human form, naked and injured.
Nathan rushed to her, covering her with his jacket, placing himself between her and Lenora.
"Take me instead," he shouted. "I am the one you want."
Then another wolf leapt from the woods.
Male one and strong.
Lenora, already heavily injured, stood no chance.
The other wolf pack arrived in their human form.
"No, Whelan... please stop. You must not get involved."
The elders screamed, but it was too late.
Without mercy, Whelan ripped Lenora's head from her body.
Back at the Obsidian Citadel, Damien screamed as a vision struck him.
"No!"
Selene grabbed his arm. "What is it, Damien?"
"Lenora," he stuttered. "She is gone. The werewolves... they killed her."
His eyes burned with rage as he slammed his fist on the table.
Silence filled the room.
Resentment burned in vampire eyes.
And Gabriel knew, war was coming.
Back on the Eldermere–Stonebridge highway, an elder wolf dropped to her knees, trembling.
"What I feared," she whispered. "It has begun."