Chapter Six: Teeth Beneath the Skin
Elena's body felt like it was tearing itself apart.
Every breath burned. Her bones ached. Her skin crawled with something beneath it — something ancient, primal, hungry.
She could feel them before she saw them: the hunters. Not human. Not truly vampire either. Twisted things—rogues turned feral, driven by bloodlust and centuries of starvation. Their eyes glowed red as coals, and their mouths twisted in permanent sneers of hunger.
Lucien stood between her and them, coat billowing in the wind like a shroud.
"I warned them," he said, voice cold as iron. "This place is sacred."
A growl answered him.
The largest of the hunters stepped forward, tall and skeletal, his veins pulsing black beneath pale skin. "The girl is ours, D'Aragon. Virelli blood belongs to the Old Ones."
"She belongs to no one," Lucien hissed.
Then he moved.
It was like watching shadow break free of form—Lucien's body dissolving into smoke, then reforming mid-stride. He was on the hunter before Elena could blink, claws slashing, fangs bared.
The battle exploded.
Elena dropped to her knees behind the stone wall, her heart thundering, stomach twisted in pain. She tried to stay hidden, tried to breathe—
—but the smell of blood hit her like a wave.
It wasn't human blood.
It was Lucien's.
A slice across his shoulder sprayed the stones. Her body responded before her mind could catch up. Hunger surged. Her mouth ached. Her vision sharpened to crystal clarity.
She staggered toward the fight.
"No—Elena, stay back!" Lucien shouted, pinning one of the ferals to the ground with a stake of black iron.
But one of the hunters had seen her.
And he was fast.
He lunged—fangs ready, claws outstretched.
And Elena didn't run.
She moved.
With a speed she didn't know she had, she ducked, grabbed a broken branch, and drove it upward. The sharp wood pierced the hunter's throat. Not a kill, but enough to stagger him.
She stood panting, heart racing.
Lucien was beside her in an instant, finishing the job with a clean strike.
"Elena…" His voice was different now — stunned, reverent.
"You moved like a born predator," he whispered. "You're awakening."
She stared at her shaking hands, the faint shimmer of blood on her fingertips. Her own blood... or someone else's?
"I didn't think," she said. "I just knew what to do."
Lucien nodded. "That's what they'll fear."
Behind them, the rest of the ferals lay in ruin. But Lucien's face was grim.
"This was a test," he said. "Not an attack."
Elena swallowed. "Then who's coming next?"
He looked to the black sky above.
"The one who sent them. The one who wants you most of all."