At least, it was cold to those who still felt warmth.

Elara felt nothing.

She moved through the streets like a shadow torn loose from its owner, appearing in one place and vanishing into another before her mind could fully register the motion. Streetlights blurred into streaks of gold around her. Neon signs smeared into color. The world struggled to keep up with her speed.

She didn’t understand how she was moving this fast.

One moment she stood beneath a flickering lamp post; the next she was halfway down the block, breath steady, body weightless.

Her feet barely touched the ground.

The air rushed past her without resistance, carrying thousands of scents she had never noticed before — perfume drifting from an apartment balcony, gasoline lingering on asphalt, rain trapped inside concrete walls.

Something was wrong.

No — everything was wrong.

Her pupils were wide, swallowing the color of her eyes as hunger clawed violently inside her stomach. It wasn’t ordinary hunger. It wasn’t emptiness.

It was need.

A savage, screaming need.

Saliva pooled in her mouth as sounds flooded her ears all at once — too loud, too sharp.

Traffic several streets away.

Rats scratching inside drainage pipes.

A television playing behind closed curtains.

A man coughing two buildings over.

And beneath it all—

Heartbeats.

Dozens of them.

Each one distinct.

Each one alive.

Each one calling to her.

Her eyes flickered between brown and crimson, reflecting the war raging inside her mind. Every pulse she heard felt like fingers pulling at her instincts, urging her forward.

Eat.

The thought wasn’t hers.

It came from somewhere deeper — darker.

Like another person lived inside her now.

A patient creature.

Violent.

Deadly.

Waiting for her control to slip.

Images flashed uncontrollably through her mind: claws tearing flesh, blood spilling across her hands, bodies collapsing beneath her.

She stumbled against a wall, gripping it tightly as cracks formed beneath her fingers.

“No…” she whispered.

Her reflection stared back from a dark shop window.

Pale skin.

Dilated eyes.

Blood still faintly staining her collar.

She didn’t recognize herself.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly even though she didn’t need air anymore.

A sudden memory surfaced — laughing with her father at breakfast, sunlight warming her skin, ordinary happiness.

The contrast shattered something inside her.

“I want to go back,” she murmured weakly.

But the hunger laughed at the idea.

And then—

“Elara!”

Her body froze.

That voice.

Adrian.

Fear struck harder than hunger.

The rooftop replayed instantly in her mind — gunshots, Kael falling, Adrian turning toward her with cold, merciless eyes.

Monster.

Killer.

Murderer.

Her breathing quickened.

He was coming for her next.

Panic surged.

Before she realized it, she was already running.

Adrian’s voice echoed through empty streets as he searched desperately.

“Elara!”

His shout cut through the quiet night, drawing curious looks from late-night pedestrians — and far less human attention lurking in the darkness.

Pain pulsed through his body with every step. Blood soaked through his shirt beneath his jacket, warm and sticky against his skin. Each breath burned his lungs.

But he didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

Every instinct told him she was nearby — frightened, alone, and dangerously unstable.

The closer he felt her presence, the faster she moved away.

Like she sensed him.

Like she feared him.

His chest tightened.

“She thinks I’ll hurt her…” he muttered.

The realization hurt more than the wound.

He staggered slightly, vision blurring.

His body was reaching its limit.

The wound Kael gave him wasn’t ordinary. Something about it resisted healing, draining his strength little by little.

Dark veins spread faintly beneath his skin.

He cursed under his breath.

If he collapsed here, he’d never find her.

The streets began to tilt.

Lights stretched into distorted lines.

His knees nearly buckled.

One destination remained.

The Moretti house.

Home.

He forced himself forward, step by agonizing step, until the familiar iron gate appeared through his fading vision.

Memories flooded him — childhood afternoons, training sessions, Gabriel correcting his stance, Elara laughing nearby without knowing the truth of their world.

He had walked through that door countless times.

Just never like this.

He reached the porch.

Collapsed.

The wooden boards slammed against his shoulder as darkness swallowed him whole.

The front door burst open.

“Adrian?!”

Gabriel Moretti rushed forward, shock written across his face as he knelt beside him.

“Stay with me— stay awake!”

Adrian tried to speak but only blood touched his lips.

Gabriel’s expression shifted from confusion to dread.

“No… no, this can’t be happening…”

But Adrian’s world had already gone black.

White lights.

The steady beeping of machines.

The sterile smell of antiseptic.

Adrian’s eyes opened slowly.

Ravensbrook General Hospital.

Pain returned immediately, sharp and grounding.

Gabriel paced the room restlessly, running a hand through his graying hair again and again. His movements were frantic, uneven — a man trying desperately not to break.

He turned the moment Adrian stirred.

Relief flashed across his face.

But it vanished just as quickly.

Because both of them knew one question mattered.

“Where is Elara?”

The words left Adrian before he could stop them.

Silence filled the room.

Gabriel hesitated.

Adrian swallowed hard.

“To be honest…” he said quietly, voice cracking, “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

The words felt heavier than any wound.

“She was turned.”

Gabriel froze.

“What?”

Tears gathered in Adrian’s eyes despite his effort to remain composed.

“Kael turned her.”

The room seemed to shrink.

Gabriel staggered back, disbelief twisting into grief.

“No… no, that’s not possible…”

Adrian explained everything — the rooftop, the fight, the bite, how she kept running afterward.

Gabriel’s grief shattered into anger.

He grabbed Adrian by the collar, shaking him.

“Why didn’t you save her?!”

The accusation hit harder than any punch.

Adrian’s guilt finally snapped.

“You weren’t there!” he shouted back. “Even if you were, you couldn’t have stopped it!”

The words echoed harshly between them.

Both men froze.

Adrian’s voice softened.

“Don’t act like I’m the only one who failed her,” he said quietly. “We both did.”

Gabriel’s grip loosened.

Tears streamed silently down his face.

“And now,” Adrian continued, forcing himself upright despite the pain, “it’s our job to help her.”

He breathed heavily.

“I can’t leave the hospital… but you can. Check her friends’ places. Anywhere she might go.”

Urgency filled his voice.

“Find her before dawn does… or before another vampire finds her first.”

Daylight approached.

Elara wandered aimlessly through quiet residential streets, exhaustion weighing on her like chains.

The rising sun behind clouds made her skin prickle painfully.

Every sound hurt now.

Every scent overwhelmed her.

And the hunger only grew stronger.

Normal food didn’t work.

She had tried earlier — bread stolen from a store, water from a fountain.

It tasted like dust.

Useless.

Empty.

Her stomach twisted violently.

Then she heard it.

Barking.

Sharp.

Loud.

Annoying.

A small chihuahua barked endlessly from a nearby porch, its tiny body trembling with territorial fury.

Elara tried to walk past.

The barking grew louder.

Her hunger surged violently.

Her vision tunneled.

The heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Before she realized what she was doing—

She moved.

Her hand shot forward, grabbing the dog effortlessly.

A snap.

Teeth sank into flesh.

Warm blood flooded her mouth.

Sweet.

Rich.

Perfect.

Relief exploded through her body.

Strength returned instantly.

Her senses sharpened into unbearable clarity.

She drank desperately, losing herself completely in the sensation.

Nothing mattered except the taste.

The world disappeared.

When the puppies wandered out moments later searching for their mother—

The hunger answered again.

Silence followed.

When awareness finally returned, blood covered her hands.

Her clothes.

Her face.

The ground beneath her.

Horror crashed into her like a wave.

She stumbled backward, shaking.

“This… is what I am now,” she whispered.

A monster.

An evil monster.

A soft voice spoke behind her.

“You’re not a monster.”

Elara spun around.

A woman stood at the edge of the porch, calm and composed as if nothing unusual had happened.

She looked no older than twenty-six, though something ancient lingered behind her eyes. Dark hair framed sharp, elegant features. Confidence radiated from her posture.

Her eyes glowed red.

Fangs flashed briefly as she smiled.

“Just powerful.”

Elara stepped back.

“Who are you?”

The woman tilted her head slightly, studying her like an interesting experiment.

“Isabella Reyes.”

She walked closer, completely unafraid of the blood-soaked scene.

“You’re new,” Isabella said gently. “Confused. Starving. Angry.”

Every word landed perfectly.

Elara’s breathing quickened.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” Isabella interrupted softly. “None of us do at first.”

Her gaze drifted toward the dead animals.

“But you’ll learn something important soon.”

She smiled again — warmer this time, yet unsettling.

“Guilt fades.”

Elara stiffened.

“That’s not true.”

Isabella chuckled quietly.

“It is… if you let yourself enjoy what you are.”

She extended a hand.

“If you want the hunger to stop controlling you… if you want to understand what you’ve become…”

Her eyes gleamed with something dangerous.

Freedom.

Power.

Temptation.

“Follow me.”

Elara hesitated.

Behind her, humanity whispered to run.

But the hunger…

The hunger wanted answers.

Slowly, uncertainly—

She stepped forward.

And followed.