The ancient pine trees of the northern wilderness stood like silent guardians around the clan settlement. For Torfyn, this had always been home—a place of roaring fires, the scent of roasted game, and the comforting presence of his grandfather, Tyrion, the wise and powerful leader of their werewolf clan.

Torfyn was practicing his control, focusing on shifting just the claws on his hand. It was tricky, a sign of a power he still hadn't fully mastered.

“Your focus wavers, grandson,” a gravelly voice spoke from the doorway of the large wooden lodge. Tyrion stood there, his broad frame filling the space, his own eyes holding the ancient gold of their kind.

“It’s hard, grandfather,” Torfyn admitted, letting his hand return to normal. “The wolf is always there, pushing to be let out completely.”

Tyrion’s expression was uncharacteristically grim. He gestured for Torfyn to follow him inside. The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows on the walls hung with trophies and history. “The wolf is not a separate thing, Torfyn. It is you. And you are far stronger than you believe.”

Torfyn frowned. “What do you mean?”

Tyrion took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “A great darkness is stirring. I can feel it in my old bones. The time for secrets is over. Torfyn… our bloodline is not just any lineage. You are the direct descendant of Lycan himself, the First One. The pure blood of the original werewolf flows in your veins.”

Torfyn’s breath hitched. The Original? It sounded like a myth, a bedtime story. “That’s… that’s impossible.”

“It is the truth,” Tyrion insisted, his voice low and urgent. “And with it comes great danger. You must beware of the Blood Queen. She is the oldest of the vampires, the strongest being in this world, and our eternal enemy. She would see our line extinguished above all others.”

Before Torfyn could process this incredible revelation, the lodge door burst open. Kael, one of their best scouts, stumbled in, his body covered in deep, bleeding gashes. He collapsed onto the fur rug, his breath a wet, ragged gasp.

“Tyrion…” Kael choked out. “Vampires… a hunting party… they’re at the eastern ridge!”

Panic surged through Torfyn, but his grandfather’s reaction was swift and calm. Tyrion’s face hardened into the mask of the leader he was. He grabbed Torfyn’s shoulders, his grip iron-strong.

“Listen to me,” Tyrion commanded, his eyes burning with intensity. “You must run. Now. Do not look back. Do not stop for anything.”

“But grandfather—the clan—you—” Torfyn protested, his heart hammering against his ribs.

“This is not a debate!” Tyrion’s voice boomed, leaving no room for argument. “GO!”

That single word, filled with such fierce love and desperation, broke through Torfyn’s fear. He turned and ran. He fled the lodge, the settlement, and plunged into the dark, familiar woods. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs ached.

And then he felt it.

It was a sensation he’d known his entire life without even realizing it: a warm, steady thread connecting his soul to his grandfather’s. It was their bond.

And suddenly, it snapped.

A pain far worse than any physical wound lanced through him. Torfyn stumbled, falling to his knees in the damp leaves. A hollow, empty ache opened up inside his chest where the bond had been. A silent scream died in his throat. Grandfather…

---

Back at the lodge, Tyrion stood tall as a black-hooded figure emerged from the shadows. The vampire’s eyes glowed like smoldering rubies in the darkness.

“Old man Tyrion,” the vampire hissed, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Long time no see.”

Tyrion didn’t flinch. He offered a sad, defiant smile of his own. “You too, Arlong. Still doing your queen’s dirty work, I see.”

“Where is your grandson?” Arlong’s voice was a deadly whisper. “The last of the pure bloodline. Tell me, and I may make your death quick.”

Tyrion spat on the ground between them. “Even if you tear me apart, I will never reveal him to the likes of you.”

Arlong sighed, a sound of mock disappointment. “Stubborn old wolf.” In a blur of motion, a dagger made of solidified, shimmering blood formed in his hand. He plunged it into Tyrion’s chest.

The old werewolf grunted in pain but did not cry out. Arlong leaned in, his fangs elongating, and bit into Tyrion’s neck, drinking a small amount of his blood.

Arlong’s eyes widened as the memories flooded into him—Tyrion’s conversation with Torfyn, the direction he had fled. He shoved the old wolf away, wiping his mouth with a grimace of disgust.

“Ugh! Werewolf blood… ha… poisonous,” he coughed, his body trembling slightly. “If I had drunk a little more, I would have…” He steadied himself, a triumphant glint in his red eyes. “So that’s what you think… hiding him in the wilds. I will find you, Torfyn.”

Alone in the forest, Torfyn felt the finality of his loss. Grief, raw and overwhelming, crashed over him. A howl of pure anguish tore from his throat, but it wasn’t a human sound. It was the roar of a wolf. His body shifted, bones cracking and reforming, fur sprouting from his skin. In moments, a large, powerful wolf stood where the young man had been. With a heart full of sorrow, Torfyn turned and began to run, disappearing deeper into the unknown.

---

High above the glittering streets of New York City, in a luxurious penthouse, a girl with striking red eyes was engrossed in an ancient, leather-bound book.

“...And so,” Amanda read aloud, her voice soft, “the strongest evil lord, who once ruled the world in agony, was sealed away by his own children. His daughter and son joined their hands, sacrificing the son’s life to banish him to another dimension…”

The book was suddenly snatched from her hands. “Amanda! How many times must I tell you not to read these books?” Her mother, Angela, looked unusually panicked.

“Mother, I was just—” Amanda began, but stopped. She watched as her mother’s expression suddenly shifted from panic to a careful, calculated calm.

Angela smiled. “You know what? You can go to that club you wanted to tonight.”

Amanda’s face lit up with shock and excitement. “Really?”

“But be careful,” Angela warned, her voice gentle but firm. “Control yourself. There will be a lot of people there.”

“Thank you, Mother!” Amanda exclaimed, rushing off to get ready, the strange book forgotten.

The moment she was gone, Angela’s smile vanished. Her posture became wary, her senses stretching out. “Ron,” she said to the empty room. “I know you are here. Show yourself.”

An old man with a long beard and piercing red eyes materialized from the shadows. “I knew you would sense me, Angela. Second General to the Blood Queen.”

Angela smirked. “Do you really think you can defeat me?”

“I know I cannot,” Ron replied calmly. “That’s why I have another plan.”

Suddenly, Angela’s knees buckled. A wave of weakness washed over her. “What is it?” she asked, her voice losing its strength.

“Just some wolfbane,” Ron said.

“Ha! Just wolfbane? You are so naive to think that it will—” Her words cut off as Ron injected her with a syringe filled with a dark, swirling liquid.

Angela collapsed, her body paralyzed. “Wh…a…tt… iiis… ttthis…?” she stammered.

“Wolf blood,” Ron stated coldly. “I know a large dose can't kill you, as you share blood with your Queen. But this is more than enough to paralyze you. Now, tell me, where is your daughter?”

Angela managed a weak, bloody smile. “Go… to hell.” With the last of her strength, she focused her power. A crimson glow enveloped her body, a desperate blood magic that flash-froze her in a protective, crystalline cocoon of her own making.

But before the spell completed, Ron managed to get a drop of her blood on his finger. He tasted it, establishing a fleeting connection, and sent a psychic message to Amanda.

---

At the club, music thumped through Amanda’s body as she danced with friends. Suddenly, the world vanished. A vision filled her mind: an old, muscular man with a long beard and red eyes.

“Girl… I know you can hear me,” his voice echoed in her skull. “Your mother is in my custody. If you want her, come find me.”

The vision broke, and Amanda gasped, her eyes wide with terror. She was about to run when another vision slammed into her—this one from her mother.

“Amanda! Don’t come! I am safe! Go to the Blood Queen… she is the only one who can help you now!”

Tears welled in Amanda’s eyes, glowing with a fierce red light. Her fangs elongated. Without a second thought for the humans around her, she became a blur of motion, shooting out of the club with a speed no mortal could follow.

---

In a cozy, normal-looking household near Beijing, the laughter of twins filled the air.

“I can’t believe you got these!” Liang Mei said, holding up the two beautifully crafted bracelets their mother, Liang Xiu Lan, had just given them for their birthday. Ancient runes for protection were carved into the silver.

“They’re perfect! Thank you, Mother!” Liang Wei beamed.

They exchanged their own gifts next. Mei squealed with delight at the concert ticket Wei had somehow managed to get for her favorite band. Wei, in turn, was stunned into silence when he opened Mei’s gift: a rare, coveted book on Ancient Runes.

“This is so cool! How did you find this?” he asked, eagerly flipping through the pages.

From the doorway, Xiu Lan watched her children, her heart swelling with love. They are so kind, so good, she thought, her eyes watering with happiness.

CRACK.

An invisible sound, felt rather than heard, reverberated through the house. The magical protection barrier she had woven around their home for years had just shattered.

Xiu Lan’s face paled. “Wei! Mei! Come here, fast! Something is wrong!” Her voice was sharp with fear. “Remember my teachings! Protect yourselves! Whatever happens, do not come out!”

She pushed them towards a corner and whispered a quick spell, layering a weak but effective cloaking barrier over them just as the front door exploded inwards.

An old woman in a black hood stood there, her red eyes scanning the room with malice. “Xiu Lan… so this is where you’ve been hiding the twins. Ha! It was a good barrier. I needed some effort to break it.”

“Alice,” Xiu Lan spat the name. “One of the Twelve. I never thought you would be the one coming after them.”

“Hand them over to me,” Alice demanded. “Willingly or not, I will take them.”

“Not gonna happen,” Xiu Lan vowed.

With a swift movement, Xiu Lan cast a shadow spell, immobilizing Alice. She moved quickly, her fingers tracing a complex, burning rune in the air before her. As she finished it, the rune slammed into Alice.

“Aagh!” Alice screamed as her blood began to boil, her skin reddening and starting to melt. She struggled, trying to use her own blood magic to counter it, but failed. One of her arms melted away completely.

But then, the deadly rune suddenly evaporated. Xiu Lan stared in shock. Alice held up one of the protective bracelets she had just gifted her children. It was glowing faintly.

“You bloody witch!” Alice snarled, free from the shadows. “Because of you, I lost an arm! I will enjoy killing you!” She unleashed a torrent of blood magic, binding Xiu Lan’s body and beginning to drain her blood and life force.

Hidden in the corner, Wei held Mei back, his hand over her mouth. But when she saw her mother’s life fading, Mei broke free. “MOTHER!” she screamed, leaping out to tackle Alice.

“Here you are!” Alice grinned, easily catching Mei in a web of blood. She sent another web flying towards Wei.

Thinking fast, Wei recalled his mother’s teachings. He calmly raised a hand, summoning a gust of wind that diverted the net just enough for him to dodge.

Xiu Lan, using the last spark of her energy, saw her chance. “I will not let you use my children as tools to break the Dark Lord’s seal!” she cried out. She focused all her power, not on Alice, but on the space behind Wei. A swirling portal of light erupted into existence.

“Wei, save your sister! Protect the world from this darkness!” With a final, mighty push of magic, she flung her son backward into the portal.

The last thing Liang Wei saw was his sister trapped and his mother falling lifeless to the floor. The portal closed, dumping him into an unknown, dark forest. Alone. Tears streamed down his face, but they were met with a burning determination. He clenched his fists.

“I will get stronger,” he vowed to the silent trees. “I will save my sister. And I will protect this world.”