They always told her monsters weren’t real.
That the bruises on her skin were just “love marks.”
That the price of being a daughter was silence.
But Seren Elara learned young — monsters wear human skin, too.
She stood at the edge of the world that night, the wind slicing through her torn clothes, her feet blistered from running. Behind her: a life of chained smiles, a cruel fiancé who owned her like a thing, and parents who sold her soul for gold. Ahead of her… nothing. Just trees. Darkness. Cold air humming with something ancient. Something wild.
The forest whispered her name like it remembered her.
She didn’t know where she was running to.
Only what she was running from.
But when she crossed that crooked tree line, when the air thickened and the moon blazed too bright overhead — the veil tore open, and the world as she knew it unraveled.
There were eyes in the dark. Fangs. Growls that shook the ground.
And then... arms. Claws. A voice.
“She doesn’t belong here,” someone growled.
“And yet, she crossed. The prophecy warned us she would.”
She was a girl hunted in both worlds — human and beast alike.
But what no one knew — not the wolves that feared her, nor the vampire lord who hungered for her — was that Seren Elara was not just a runaway.
She was the beginning of something ancient. Something cursed.
And maybe, just maybe… something worth bleeding for.