Title: The Hockey Half-Vampire

But she knew better The curse wasn’t kind. It punished love that wasn’t destined. It punished her. “Taylor…” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “Some things aren’t meant to happen.” He tilted his head, confusion flickering across his features. “You think we aren’t meant to happen?” Aria swallowed hard, her throat tight. “I don’t know what we are. But I know what happens to the people I care about.” He laughed softly, trying to ease the weight of her tone. “Aria, you sound like one of those tragic stories Selene reads—about cursed maidens and doomed lovers. You’re scaring me.” “Maybe you should be scared.” He stepped closer until the tips of their skates touched. “Or maybe I should prove you wrong.” The arena lights flickered overhead, and the air seemed to still be around them. For a heartbeat, Aria felt the urge to pull away—to run before her heart betrayed her. But the wolf in her craved closeness, warmth, touch. And Taylor, with his steady gaze and reckless courage, was warmth itself. “You really want me to meet you tomorrow?” she asked quietly. He smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made her chest ache. “Yes. At the royal cottage. You’ll love it there. Just us, the lake, and the moon.” The moon. The word made something stir deep within her. Her wolf stirred in agreement, while the vampire inside recoiled from the thought of moonlight touching her skin. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally. He grinned. “That’s a yes.” Aria rolled her eyes, trying to hide the flutter in her chest. “You’re impossible.” “And you like me that way,” he teased, skating backward, his voice echoing across the ice. As he left, Aria stood there, the silence pressing in again. She could still feel the warmth of his touch, still see the glint in his eyes that said he meant every word. But she also felt the shadow that lived in her veins—the one that whispered what happened the last time she gave in to love. She remembered blood on her hands. She remembered the screams. And she remembered running, always running. Now it is happening again. Aria looked up at the silver moon, its light sharp and cold. “Please,” she murmured to no one, “don’t let it happen again.” But deep down, she already knew tomorrow may change everything. —------------ Next Day ~ Aria ~ The moon was full that night. Too full. Its light spilled through the forest like liquid silver, painting the path ahead in ghostly hues as I made my way toward the royal cottage. Every step felt heavier than the last, my wolf restless beneath my skin, my heartbeat echoing louder than the wind that rustled through the trees. I shouldn’t have come. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back, to stay away from him. But something stronger than reason pulled me forward — the way his eyes found me even in a crowded rink, the warmth in his laugh, the way my heart betrayed me each time he spoke my name. Taylor. By the time I reached the cottage, the scent of pine and lakewater wrapped around me. The cabin was small but beautiful, perched beside the still surface of the royal lake. Candlelight flickered behind the windows, and soft music drifted through the half-open door. He was already there. Taylor stood near the fireplace, his dark hair tousled, his sleeves rolled up as he poured two glasses of wine. When he looked up and saw me, his expression shifted — something between relief and awe. “You came,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have,” I murmured, stepping inside. “But here I am.” He grinned that boyish grin that always undid me. “I’ll take that as a win.” I tried to smile, but my chest was tight. I could hear his heartbeat — steady, strong — like a song calling my darkness to dance. I turned away, pretending to admire the view through the window. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, coming closer. “Did I do something?” I shook my head. “No. You just… don’t understand what you’re getting yourself into.” “Then help me understand,” he said. “You keep running, Aria, but you never tell me why.” Because if I told you, you’d run too. Because I’ve killed before. Because loving me is a death sentence. Instead, I said, “I’m not who you think I am.” Taylor reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face. His touch was gentle, reverent. “Maybe not. But I think I know who you are when you look at me.” My breath caught. “Taylor…” He leaned in, his scent — cedar and warmth — filling my senses. “Tell me to stop, and I will.” But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Instead, my eyes fluttered shut as his lips met mine. The world fell away. The kiss started soft — hesitant, almost innocent — but the moment our lips touched, something deep inside me snapped. My heart thundered, my veins burned, and a whisper I hadn’t heard in years stirred in my head. “Not him, Aria. He is not yours.” Pain lanced through me, sharp and searing. My body trembled as the curse awakened. It was ancient, merciless and clawing its way to the surface. I tried to pull back, but it was too late. His warmth turned intoxicating. His pulse, deafening. The hunger flooded me. The kind I’d buried for years. The kind that didn’t stop until everything beautiful turned to ruin. “Aria?” he whispered, confusion lacing his tone. “You’re shaking—” But his words broke off in a gasp. My fangs had descended. The moment I tasted his blood, the world ignited. It was ecstasy and horror all at once — the sweetness of him, the purity, the love. I tried to stop, gods, I tried, but the curse had taken over. My fingers dug into his shirt, pulling him closer even as my mind screamed no. Taylor struggled weakly, his voice fading into the night. “A…ria…” And then there was silence. Only the sound of the wind and my own ragged breathing. When I opened my eyes, he was in my arms, pale, still, lifeless. His blood stained my lips, warm and bright under the moonlight streaming through the window. I staggered backward, trembling. “No… no, no, no…” Tears blurred my vision as I fell to my knees beside him. His hand slipped from mine, hitting the floor with a soft thud that echoed louder than thunder. The curse had struck again. And I had killed the only person who ever looked at me like I was worth saving. I pressed my forehead to his chest, praying for a heartbeat, a miracle, just anything. But there was nothing. Just the cold weight of guilt pressing down on me, suffocating me. Outside, the moon shone brighter, cruel and silent witness to my sin. The scent of his blood filled the air, mingling with pine and sorrow. “I told you not to love me,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I told you…” Then I stood. My legs trembled, my hands slick with his blood. I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t let them find him here not like this. Not with me. I stumbled out into the forest, running barefoot through the night, the wind tearing through my hair, the weight of what I’d done following close behind. Branches clawed at my arms, leaves blurred by tears, and all I could hear was the echo of his last breath. By dawn, the lake was quiet again. The royal guards would find his body. They would call it a tragedy. Selene would swear vengeance I know it, if she ever finds out. And I… would become the monster they whispered about in the shadows. But on ly I knew the truth. It wasn’t hatred that killed him. It was love. A cursed, forbidden, impossible love, it was the kind that always demanded blood.