RUNAWAY FANGS, RUNAWAY HEARTS

The forest didn’t usually call to Aurora. She avoided it, the same way she avoided anything that stirred the part of her she was forbidden to acknowledge; the part with fangs and hunger. But tonight, something dragged her out of bed long before dawn. A whisper in her veins. A pull. A tightening in her chest that said run before she could reason with it. Leaves slapped her arms as she sprinted between towering pines, her boots sinking into damp soil. The night air stung her lungs, sharp and metallic. Her breath fogged the cold air in front of her, but she wasn’t panting. She never did. Even when she ran like this, too fast, too silently to be human. She hated that. Slow down, she told herself. You’re losing control again. But slowing wasn’t an option. Not when the scent hit her. Blood. Fresh, warm, close. Aurora stumbled as it flooded her senses, vivid and intoxicating. The world sharpened around her, the distant snap of twigs, the rustle of wildlife, even the subtle heartbeat of something small and terrified nearby. Her head whipped toward the sound before she could stop herself. A wounded deer stood shakily a few meters away, its leg torn open by a hunter’s trap. Blood dripped onto fallen leaves in slow, steady beads. Each drop echoed in Aurora’s skull like a drumbeat. Her pupils constricted into slits. A pulse of heat surged up her spine. Her fangs pressed against her gums, threatening to emerge. “No, no, no,” She shoved her hand against her mouth, staggering backward. Not now. She squeezed her eyes shut, nails curling into her palms. She could already imagine it, lunging at the deer, sinking her teeth into its warm neck, drinking until the forest faded away. The vision was too clear, too tempting. Control it, she begged herself. You control it, not the other way around. But the scent grew stronger. Sweet, coppery, alive. Her throat burned with thirst. She clutched the nearest tree for support, fingers digging so hard into the bark that it cracked beneath her grip. Her breath quickened, but not with exertion. Hunger: Pure, primal, terrifying hunger. She hated this side of herself. She had spent years training to suppress it. Years pretending to be human. Years of lying to everyone at Moonlight Academy. No one there knew what she was. Not even Tyler, the quiet boy with soft eyes, who had quietly slipped into her heart. If he knew, she thought bitterly, he’d run too. Every human would. Her mother’s warning echoed in her mind: “You must never expose what you are, Aurora. Humans don’t fear monsters; they kill them.” She didn’t want to be killed. She also didn’t want to become the thing they feared. Another pulse of scent hit her, stronger this time. The deer let out a cry, a wounded, pitiful sound that ripped through the quiet night. Aurora snapped. Her eyes flew open, glowing faintly red in the moonlight. A low growl rumbled from her chest. She took one step toward the deer. Then another. Branches snapped under her boots. Her heartbeat slowed to a predatory calm. Hunger poured through her, so thick she tasted it. Just one sip. Just enough to silence the burn. Just enough to… A sudden flash of white light seared the forest. Aurora froze. Voices echoed between the trees; deep, alert, unmistakably human. “Tracks end here!” “Stay sharp! The creature was spotted heading north!” Hunters. Aurora’s entire body stiffened. Instinct slammed into her, the urge to vanish, to hide, to bury the monster clawing inside her before someone saw it. She dropped to her knees, forcing herself behind a fallen log just as a cluster of lanterns bobbed through the trees. Three figures trudged past, silver blades glinting beneath their cloaks. Their boots crunched loudly across the forest floor, but they weren’t loud enough to mask the thunder of Aurora’s pulse. If they found her like this with glowing eyes, visible fangs, hunger rolling off her in waves, they wouldn’t hesitate. They’ll kill me, she thought on sight. The deer limped away, forgotten, fleeing toward deeper shadows. Aurora exhaled shakily. Good. At least one creature wouldn’t die tonight because of her. “Spread out!” one of the hunters barked. “My sensor picked up energy spikes; something unnatural is nearby.” Aurora’s breath caught. Sensors? Were they using magic-detecting equipment now? Her chest tightened with panic. Her heart slammed into her ribs like it was trying to escape. If they come closer, if they find me… She pressed a palm to her chest and whispered the words her mother taught her; the ancient chant meant to subdue her vampire blood. “Lysa verai… vanor ethel… suppressa…” Her voice trembled. Her hands trembled. Her entire body shook. The hunger clawed at her throat, fighting the chant. “Lysa verai…” she gritted out again. “Suppressa…” Her fangs slowly retracted. Her pupils rounded. Her aura dimmed. The glow in her eyes flickered and then died out completely. By the time the hunters passed within a few steps of her hiding place, Aurora looked human again. Pale, frightened, trembling, but no longer a threat. “Nothing here!” one shouted. “Keep moving!” another replied. “The creature is close.” Aurora waited until their footsteps faded into the distance before finally exhaling. Her entire body slumped against the log, drained of the strength she never thought she’d lose. Suppressing her vampire side always took a toll, but tonight had been worse. Her stomach twisted. Her throat burned. Her head pounded with the remnants of suppressed instincts. She pulled her knees to her chest and pressed her forehead against them. A shaky breath left her lips. She had come so close, too close. I can’t keep doing this. Living between worlds. Pretending to be something she wasn’t. Hiding every part of herself all the time. Pretending to be safe when she was anything but. A dry laugh escaped her, quiet and bitter. “Tomorrow,” she whispered to herself, “I have to go to school as if nothing happened.” She imagined it, walking through Moonlight Academy’s grand marble halls with her books tucked under her arm and sitting in class beside Tyler. Ignoring the way Prince Philip stared at her like she was another trophy waiting to be taken. Pretending to be normal. Pretending she hadn’t nearly attacked a wounded creature in the woods just hours ago. Pretending she wasn’t a danger to everyone around her. A gust of cold wind swept through the trees, sending leaves spiraling around her feet. Aurora tilted her head back to stare at the moon. It hung low and heavy, like an unblinking eye watching her. “What am I supposed to do?” she whispered to it. But the moon offered no answers. The forest slowly quieted, settling once the hunters had gone. A nightbird called somewhere in the distance. Aurora’s heartbeat finally slowed to a human rhythm. She pushed herself to her feet, dusted dirt from her cloak, and tested her strength. Her legs trembled slightly; suppression always did that, but she could walk. She had to walk. The academy dorms were only a ten-minute trek from the forest edge, but it felt like miles after the ordeal. As she started toward home, exhaustion weighed on her shoulders, but something heavier pressed on her chest: Fear. Not of hunters. Not even of losing control. But what would happen if anyone at Moonlight Academy discovered who she truly was? Especially now. Humans feared vampires. Royals hunted them. And in a few days, the royal family would make a decision that would shatter her life forever. Though Aurora didn’t know it yet, tonight’s struggle was only a warning. A storm was coming. And she, with all her secrets and fragile self-control, was standing directly in its path. Her boots crunched softly on the path as she walked back toward the academy, her breath slow and steady now. But she couldn’t shake the words echoing in her mind, words that felt more like a prophecy than a fear: If anyone ever discovered what she truly was, Aurora wouldn’t just lose her freedom, she’d lose her life.