Fangs & Fates

The line is breaking

King Alaric didn’t hesitate.

He dug his heels into his horse, charging toward the eastern flank where Lycan warriors struggled to hold back the advancing vampire army.

Aurelia followed without question.

Behind her, nearly fifty royal commanders rode as one, Moonsteel swords gleaming beneath the afternoon sun.

The earth shook beneath the pounding of hooves.

Ahead of them, chaos had consumed the battlefield.

The eastern line had collapsed into complete disorder.

A pack of silver wolves fought desperately to protect a group of wounded warriors while vampires surrounded them from every direction.

One enormous gray wolf lunged at a vampire commander, its powerful jaws snapping shut around the man’s shoulder.

The vampire let out a savage snarl.

His sword slipped from his hand.

For a heartbeat, it looked as though the wolf had won.

Then the vampire’s muscles tightened.

With frightening speed, he twisted beneath the wolf’s weight and drove his fist into its ribs.

The beast staggered.

The vampire seized the opportunity, grabbing the wolf by the neck and throwing it violently against a tree.

The impact shook the branches.

The wolf struggled to rise.

Another vampire rushed toward it.

Aurelia’s stomach twisted.

“Move!”

She kicked her horse forward.

Moonfang flashed from its sheath.

The vampire heard the horse approaching before Aurelia reached him.

His head snapped toward her.

His eyes narrowed.

He reacted instantly.

Aurelia swung.

He blocked.

Their blades collided with a deafening clang.

The force of the impact traveled through Aurelia’s arm.

The vampire smiled.

“You’re quick.”

Aurelia pushed harder.

“Not quick enough.”

She twisted her wrist and knocked his blade aside.

Moonfang pierced his chest.

His eyes widened.

Silver light flooded through his body.

Then he dissolved into ash.

The wolf behind him struggled back onto its feet.

Aurelia looked toward it.

“Can you fight?”

The wolf growled weakly.

Then it shifted back into human form.

The warrior was covered in blood.

“I can.”

“Then get to the wounded.”

He nodded and hurried away.

Aurelia turned back toward the battlefield.

Another vampire was already charging her.

He moved unnaturally fast.

His boots barely seemed to touch the ground.

Aurelia raised Moonfang.

Their swords collided.

He attacked again.

She blocked.

Again.

She ducked.

Again.

She stepped aside.

His movements were fast enough to make ordinary warriors panic, but Aurelia had spent years training against speed.

She watched his shoulders.

His feet.

His breathing.

His eyes.

She noticed something.

He listened.

Every time she shifted her weight, his head moved slightly.

Every time her horse stepped against the earth, his attention followed the sound.

He could hear her.

Aurelia deliberately kicked a stone behind him.

The vampire’s head turned.

She smiled.

“Got you.”

Moonfang swept across his chest.

He stumbled.

Before he could recover, Aurelia drove the blade into his heart.

Ash scattered across her armor.

She breathed heavily.

Her hands were beginning to ache.

Her body was exhausted.

But the battle wasn’t slowing down.

If anything, it was becoming worse.

Aurelia looked toward the eastern ridge.

More vampires were pouring through.

King Alaric and the royal commanders were fighting desperately to contain them.

For every vampire they destroyed, another seemed to take his place.

“Princess!”

Rowan rode up beside her.

“We need to reinforce the western side.”

“Why?”

“They’re trying to surround us.”

Aurelia looked over.

He was right.

The vampires were not simply attacking.

They were maneuvering.

Their formations were gradually curving around the Lycan warriors, attempting to cut them off from the main army.

“Then we don’t let them.”

Aurelia turned her horse.

“Take twenty commanders and reinforce the western line.”

Rowan stared at her.

“And you?”

“I’ll stay here.”

“Princess, your father ordered”

“My father needs the eastern flank held.”

Rowan hesitated.

Then nodded.

“Yes, Princess.”

He turned his horse and rode away.

Aurelia looked toward the fighting.

A terrible feeling had settled inside her chest.

Something was wrong.

The vampires were too organized.

Too coordinated.

They had expected this.

They had prepared for it.

Then a deep horn sounded from the opposite side of the battlefield.

Every vampire stopped.

Not completely.

But enough.

Their heads turned toward the sound.

Aurelia frowned.

The battlefield seemed to pause for a single heartbeat.

Then the vampire soldiers began separating.

One by one.

Two by two.

A path opened through their ranks.

Aurelia’s heart began beating faster.

She could hear the sound of hooves approaching.

Slow.

Steady.

Unhurried.

The vampires stepped aside without being ordered.

A black stallion emerged from the smoke.

Its coat was almost impossible to distinguish from the dark armor of its rider.

The man sitting upon it wore black armor etched with subtle crimson markings.

A long dark cloak moved behind him in the wind.

His face was calm.

Almost frighteningly calm.

He looked over the battlefield without the slightest trace of emotion.

Aurelia’s breath caught.

She had never seen him before.

Yet she knew exactly who he was.

Prince Darius.

The Wicked Prince.

The heir to the Vampire Crown.

The son of King Valerius.

For several seconds, Darius said nothing.

His crimson eyes moved slowly across the battlefield.

He looked at the wounded.

The dead.

The wolves.

The royal commanders.

Then his gaze stopped on Aurelia.

Something unreadable passed through his expression.

Aurelia felt it immediately.

The strange weight of his attention.

She tightened her grip around Moonfang.

Darius’s eyes dropped briefly to the sacred sword.

Then back to her face.

Neither spoke.

The sounds of battle continued around them, yet for Aurelia, everything seemed distant.

She had heard stories about him.

Everyone had.

The Wicked Prince.

The Vampire King’s most feared warrior.

A prince who had never lost a duel.

A commander who could hear an enemy approaching long before they reached him.

A fighter whose speed had become the subject of countless whispered stories.

But none of the stories had prepared Aurelia for the reality of standing in front of him.

He looked younger than she expected.

Not old.

Not monstrous.

Just a young man standing in the middle of a battlefield as though blood and death were nothing more than familiar scenery.

Darius slowly dismounted.

His boots touched the ground.

He handed the reins of his horse to a nearby soldier.

Then he walked forward.

A vampire commander approached him.

“My Prince.”

Darius didn’t look at him.

“How many commanders remain on this flank?”

“Twenty-three.”

“How many wounded?”

“Thirty-seven.”

Darius nodded once.

“And the Lycan defenses?”

“We have forced them back nearly two hundred yards.”

His eyes returned to Aurelia.

“Not enough.”

The commander hesitated.

“My Prince?”

Darius finally looked at him.

“Push them toward the ridge.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The commander immediately turned and began shouting orders.

Darius drew his sword.

Nightfang.

The black blade emerged slowly from its sheath.

Crimson veins pulsed beneath the surface.

Aurelia’s eyes narrowed.

So this was the legendary sword.

She had heard about it.

She had never imagined it would look so dark.

So alive.

Darius tested its weight in his hand.

Then he looked toward the Lycan formation.

“Advance.”

The vampire army moved.

Not recklessly.

Not wildly.

With frightening precision.

Aurelia watched them come.

“Hold the line!” she shouted.

The royal commanders raised their swords.

The first vampires reached them.

Steel collided.

Aurelia blocked a strike before driving her shoulder into a vampire’s chest.

He stumbled.

She raised Moonfang.

But before she could strike, another vampire attacked from her left.

She turned.

Blocked.

A third came from behind.

She heard him just in time.

Moonfang swung backward.

The sacred blade pierced his heart.

Ash scattered behind her.

Aurelia spun toward the next attacker.

The battle swallowed her again.

But this time, something was different.

Darius was moving through the battlefield.

And everywhere he went, the Lycan line weakened.

He moved faster than any vampire Aurelia had seen.

Not by disappearing.

Not by magic.

Simply by being impossibly fast.

One moment he stood several yards away.

The next, he was beside a Lycan commander.

Nightfang struck.

The commander barely managed to raise his Moonsteel sword.

The impact sent him staggering backward.

Darius attacked again.

The commander blocked.

Again.

Again.

The Lycan warrior was forced backward until his boots dug trenches into the earth.

Then Darius twisted his wrist.

Nightfang slipped beneath the man’s guard.

The commander froze.

Darius stopped the blade just before it reached his heart.

For a moment, the two stared at each other.

Then Darius shoved him backward.

“Fall back.”

The commander looked stunned.

The vampire prince had spared him.

Darius turned away without explanation.

Aurelia saw everything.

Her brows drew together.

Why?

Why would he spare an enemy he could easily kill?

Before she could think about it, a vampire rushed toward her.

She raised Moonfang.

Their blades collided.

The vampire was strong.

Aurelia blocked the first strike.

Then the second.

He swung toward her ribs.

She twisted away.

His blade grazed her armor.

Aurelia countered.

Moonfang cut across his chest.

He stumbled.

She drove the blade into his heart.

Ash scattered.

Aurelia breathed heavily.

Then she looked across the battlefield again.

Darius was standing among the chaos.

His crimson eyes found hers.

For a moment, neither moved.

Something passed between them.

Not trust.

Not recognition.

Something far more dangerous.

Curiosity.

Then a roar erupted from the eastern flank.

“Protect the King!”

Aurelia’s head snapped toward the sound.

King Alaric had been surrounded.

Aurelia immediately kicked her horse forward.

Darius saw her move.

His expression changed.

Barely.

But it changed.

He stepped into her path.

Aurelia pulled her horse to a sudden stop.

The two heirs were now only a few feet apart.

Moonfang rested in Aurelia’s hand.

Nightfang hung loosely from Darius’s.

Neither raised their weapon.

For one breathless moment, the battlefield seemed to disappear around them.

Darius looked at the sword in her hand.

“Moonfang.”

Aurelia’s eyes narrowed.

“You know its name.”

“Everyone in my kingdom does.”

His voice was quieter than she expected.

“And everyone in yours knows mine.”

Aurelia’s fingers tightened around the hilt.

“I know enough.”

Darius’s gaze returned to hers.

“Do you?”

Before she could answer, another explosion of steel sounded behind her.

Aurelia glanced toward her father.

When she looked back, Darius had already stepped aside.

“Go,” he said.

She stared at him.

Then she rode toward the eastern flank.

Darius watched her leave.

For the first time since entering the battlefield, his expression wasn’t completely unreadable.

Something about the Lycan princess had caught his attention.

Something he couldn’t explain.

And he hated that he wanted to understand it.

Across the battlefield, Aurelia fought her way toward her father, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking back once.

Darius was still watching her.

Their eyes met across the distance.

Neither looked away first.

Then another wave of vampires crashed into the Lycan formation.

The war swallowed them once again.

But neither heir would forget the moment they had stood face to face.