blood bond 🩸

THE HUNT BEGINS

Elara’s breath burned in her lungs as she sprinted through the empty streets. The city was silent, eerily so, as though the world had been stripped of life. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her heart a wild drumbeat of terror.

Behind her, the creature followed.

She didn’t dare look back, but she could hear it. The scrape of claws against concrete. The wet, ragged breath of something unnatural.

And then—a blur.

Something shot past her, faster than she could process.

Tristan.

He moved like a shadow given form, a black streak of vengeance cutting through the night.

The air rippled as he collided with the creature.

Elara stumbled, skidding to a stop as a crack echoed through the street.

She turned just in time to see Tristan’s hand wrapped around the creature’s throat, lifting it off the ground.

The monster thrashed, its limbs jerking wildly, but Tristan held firm. His face was impassive, but his eyes—his inhumanly dark, gleaming eyes—burned with lethal intent.

"You shouldn’t have come here," he said softly.

The creature hissed, baring its fangs. "She is unclaimed. We had every right—"

Tristan’s grip tightened.

Bones snapped.

The creature let out a strangled gurgle before its body went limp.

Elara clutched her stomach, swallowing down the nausea that rose at the sight.

Tristan exhaled sharply, then released his grip. The corpse hit the ground with a dull thud, the scent of death thick in the air.

Elara’s legs felt weak, her hands trembling. She had seen violence before—but never this.

Never something so inhuman.

She took a shaky step back. "What—what was that?"

Tristan turned to her slowly. "A Forsaken."

Elara’s brows furrowed. "A what?"

Tristan sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "A vampire that has lost its mind to the hunger. They are nothing but beasts now—driven by instinct, by thirst." His eyes flickered to her, sharp and assessing. "And they are drawn to you."

A chill crawled up Elara’s spine.

"They knew about me before I did," she whispered.

Tristan took a step closer, and this time, she didn’t move away.

"You are awakening, Elara," he murmured. "Your blood—your existence—calls to them."

She swallowed hard. "Then what am I?"

Tristan was silent for a long moment. Then, softly—

"Mine."

The word sent a shock through her system.

Her throat felt dry, her skin too tight.

She should deny it, should reject it.

But deep inside her, something stirred.

Something old.

Something hungry.

And Elara wasn’t sure if she wanted to stop it.

Not anymore.