SAVAGE BONDS

Chapter 2: Finding Nemo

Loren’s pov

Duke’s Diner

Eight years later

Excerpt from the Book of Fates:

"And so the great goddess of Light and creation dwelt among men, and destruction and darkness fled at her command. And those monsters—sentient beings born of chaos, who terrified mankind—were vanquished once and for all."

The air inside Duke’s Diner clung to my skin like syrup: thick, hot, relentless.

Ella, my best friend and crime partner, was draped across the counter like roadkill. One arm dangled off the side. Her cheek was squished flat against the marble. Her curly hair fanned around her like a lion's mane mid-murder.

“It’s so hot,” she moaned, “I think I can feel my soul leaving my body.”

“You don’t have a soul, Ella.”

She cracked one eye open and scowled at me. “Okay. Rude.”

I smirked and flipped a page on my order pad. “Double decker cheeseburger, hold the mayo! Side of fries, one chocolate milkshake, table two!” I shouted through the kitchen window.

The fryer crackled louder in retaliation, spitting grease like it hated me personally. The whole place smelled like scorched meat, cheap oil, and moist heat.

Ella groaned louder and slapped a dramatic hand across her forehead. “How are you still yelling in this heat?”

“Spite,” I said cheerfully, flicking a damp strand of hair off her forehead. “Now get your ass up. Those tables aren’t gonna clean themselves.”

She slapped at my hand, missing by a mile. “This is abuse. You know I’m part of the working class now.”

“If I didn’t need the tips, I’d let you melt into the counter,” I muttered, pulling my apron tighter. “But if I’m going down in this grease-slick hellhole, I’m dragging you with me.”

If anyone asked, I only let her take up half the counter because I didn’t have the energy to move her. If anyone really knew me, they’d know I’d fight the heat, the kitchen crew, and maybe God himself before I let her melt alone.

And as if God took that as a personal dig at Him, the door swung open, announcing we had new customers. I lifted my head to welcome them in and take their orders but my heart suddenly dropped to my feet and it became embarrassingly hard to breathe.

The chatter in the diner died quickly. A group of veilborns; supernatural creatures that surpassed us in strength and wealth and treated humans like dirt beneath their shoes, stood at the threshold.

Three of them. All boys. Young—our age, maybe. But with Veilborns, appearances were just another illusion. Their presence rolled in like smoke, thick and choking, pulling all the air from the room.

The one in front walked like he owned the ground: tall, built lean and mean and sophisticated, razor-sharp in posture and cheekbones, with black hair styled with effortless precision. Shadows trailed behind him, thick tendrils of darkness that hissed against the sunlight. His eyes—deep and red as spilled blood—swept across the room like a knife across skin. He looked like something out of a nightmare.

Behind him, a fiery storm. Tattoos curled along his throat and arms. His reddish-brown hair was a tousled mess, like he'd just walked out of a fight and enjoyed it. His smirk could cut glass.

Then there was the last one. White hair. Eyes like glaciers and old poetry. Cold, disinterested, hauntingly beautiful.

And those eyes found me.

And lingered.

My blood froze. I shouldn’t have recognized him. But I did.

And whatever trouble I thought I was avoiding today just walked through the damn door.

One was bad enough, but three… This could only mean trouble. Wherever Veilborns went, humans got hurt. I just hoped today would be an exception.

“Oh no,” Ella whispered, straightening beside me. “What the hell are they doing here?”

I couldn’t answer. My heart was busy trying to punch its way out of my chest. But I mirrored her sentiments. Humans and veilborns rarely ever mixed. They had their side of town and we had ours regardless of what the anti segregation laws said.

The redhead cupped his hands. “Julio!” he bellowed. “Come out before I make you!”

Julio?

What the hell did our junior cook get himself into now?

“Go get him,” I hissed to Ella. “And your dad.”

She hesitated. “Loren—”

“I’ll stall. Go!”

She shot me a look. “If they touch you, I’m setting this whole place on fire,” she muttered and vanished into the kitchen.

I took a breath, wiped my clammy hands on my apron, and plastered on my brightest fake smile.

“Welcome to Duke’s,” I said sweetly. “How can I help you gentlemen—”

“You can help by staying out of this, muñeca,” the redhead sneered, shoving me aside like I was furniture.

I stumbled but didn’t fall. Just caught the glint of metal in his hand before he brought the bat down.

The confectionery case exploded.

Screams erupted. Plates clattered. Someone ran for the door—only to slam into an invisible barrier.

Because of course the black-haired one would throw up a ward.

His darkness spilled across the diner like a living thing, crashing against the walls, pressing down on us like a lead blanket. I dropped, instinctive, covering my head as glass and debris rained from above.

When I looked up, the windows were gone—sealed shut by shadow. No exits. No help.

Ella, where the hell are you?

Then she emerged, leading her dad, Miguel, with Julio behind them looking like a kid caught stealing candy.

Miguel’s voice was smooth, patronizing. “How can we help you gentlemen?”

“Ah, Julio!” the redhead spread his large arms. “Got something for the Morgensteins, cabrón?”

My breath hitched. Morgensteins?

The Morgensteins were the fiercest dragon family in Eldermire, notorious for their shady activities and heavy hand in both the human underworld and veilborn blackmarket.

Julio stammered. “I—I wasn’t expecting—I need more time.”

The redhead’s smile turned cold. “You signed a contract. We delivered. Now you deliver.”

“I got sick last week and I couldn’t make the blood count. Please, I wouldn’t ask this of you if I wasn’t desperate—.”

He was rambling now and red was not having it.

“Ugh,” he groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair, “your voice is giving me a f*****g headache.”

His brown eyes flicked to me and his menacing smile widened, “sweetheart,” the way he said it made my stomach coil, “what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Loren… sir,” I tagged the honourific as an afterthought.

I probably shouldn’t have because his gaze brightened like a creep with a dom kink.

“Loren huh?” his smile was easy, patronizing, hypnotic. “I’m afraid my tolerance for idiots is nonexistent today. What’s he saying? He’s talking a lot but he’s not making any sense..”

“Uh,” I cleared my throat, rising to my feet and dusting off my clothes, “It looks like he’s got a lot of stuff going on and he’s asking for more time.”

“Loren, dear,” his tone was sugar-laced venom. “Tell Julio we don’t have time to play nurse. Tell him if he doesn’t pay up, I’ll take something else instead.”

Julio floundered, “I just- I can get it to you, I promise. I just need more time.”

Red’s gaze snapped to him. “Alright,” he gleamed like he just had a brilliant idea. “I’ll give you another week.”

“W- why thank you very much, sir-”

Red raised a hand, cutting him off, “I’ll give you a week if you get on your knees and beg me.”

Dark hair bursted out a laugh, his eyes brimming with amusement.

“What?” Red prodded when he saw Julio hesitate. “You can’t do it?”

Julio scrambled to his knees. “Please-”

“C’mon.” Red said, squatting so that he was on eye level with Julio, mad delight in his eyes. “You can do better than that.”

The moment Julio’s forehead hit the floor, Red gripped his hair and pressed his face harder into the tile. “Go on, puta. Show me how much you mean it.”

Julio was trembling now and when he spoke, I could barely make out his words.

“You’re a man, Julio,” gone was the easy going tilt in his voice, his tone darkened into a low growl, “the least you can do is keep your word like one.”

“A man?” dark hair laughed humourlessly, “their kind are closer to spineless worms.”

The offended glare I aimed at him shot out before I could stop myself.

His smile vanished. His eyes narrowed as he stalked towards me, shadows sharpening.

My heart began to beat dangerously fast with every step he took closer to me. He didn’t stop until he was only a hair's breadth from me. “Got something to say, sweetheart?”

I was wrong. I thought I hated when Red called me that but dark hair whispered it with an animosity that made me crumple under his hateful gaze.

I swallowed hard and dropped my head. “N-no.”

The overwhelming force of his power made it difficult to breathe properly. I felt the paralyzing fear of a prey coming face to face with a predator.

“C’mon, kleines reh,” his savage accent wrapped around the term of endearment, turning it into a cruel insult. He grabbed my chin and jerked my face up to meet his vicious gaze, his fangs gleamed with venom. “I caught that look. Prove me wrong, grow a spine and spit it out.”

“Nicolas,” the white-haired one murmured. First time I’d heard him speak. Soft. Bored.

But Nicolas didn’t stop. He dipped, and I felt it.

The fangs.

The bite.

Pain sparked bright behind my eyes as he pierced my neck.

I screamed. Pushed. Useless.

His arm locked around my waist, the other tilting my head to give him easier access. He drank like a starving man at a feast.

Sounds muffled into mush until all I heard was blissful silence.

Something was starting to bubble in my lower abdomen, an emotion so heavy and warm and threatening to overwhelm me spread through my chest. I had stopped struggling against him, my body tight with revolting craving.

It felt good. No, not good—wrong. But also good. Like sinking into a warm bath with your throat cut open.

And gods help me—I felt pleasure bloom in my gut. Thick. Unnatural. Shameful.

I stood on my tiptoes, leaning towards him. He was taking from me but giving me back something so much better than the blood in my veins. I wanted more, more, more.

Only more of his venom could scratch the dreadful itch building up in my insides.

A treacherous moan escaped my lips. The sound was a detonation that sent a surge of horror through me.

My eyes ripped open and I saw Ella screaming at the dark haired vampire to let go of me while her father restrained her from potentially getting herself killed. Red was grinning, perfectly amused, his arm slung around the white haired boy who looked bored, thoroughly disinterested.

The sucking motion slowed to a stop, the monster groaning in satisfaction. He lapped up any strays, licking off the traces of blood that trickled down my neck as if desperate to not waste even a single drop.

He released me from his grasp but held me in his embrace. When I looked up, I saw that his eyes were no longer blood red but startling grey. Like all the stars and storm clouds had been squeezed into them.

I stumbled away, wiping my mouth, my neck—my dignity.

He regarded me coldly before tilting his head slightly at his companions, “I’m bored. Let’s go.”

Red laughed, already swinging his bat like this had been a casual drop-in. His arm was slung around the white haired boy and he pointed the bat at Julio, “we’ll be back,” he said to Julio, a roguish smile on his lips. “Oh, and fix the AC. It’s hotter than a dragon’s nutsack in here.”

Then they left.

Just like that.

Chaos in. Chaos out.

And the rest of us?

Still picking up the pieces.