You were lost, or so you thought. The moonlight barely pierced the thick canopy of the forest, casting shifting shadows that danced like ghosts around you. Each step you took was hesitant, but driven by an instinct stronger than fear. You were young—still a fledgling, a pure vampire born not long ago. Your senses were sharp, yet untrained. You didn’t fully understand what you were, or what the world around you could become under moonlight. You had wandered too far from the coven, too curious, too eager to explore the whispers of the night.

The wind rustled through the trees like voices speaking secrets only the dead should hear. You walked through the dark forest alone, your small body pushing through branches, leaves brushing against your pale skin like warning fingers. The scent of damp earth and blood filled your lungs. Something was wrong.

Then you heard it—a low, rumbling growl. At first, you thought it might have been your imagination, a trick of your overactive hearing. But no, it was real. Your sensitive ears caught the shift in the air, the tension, the vibration in the ground. You turned quickly, your crimson eyes wide with alertness.

There she was.

A massive female Wolf loomed above you, muscles tense, her eyes gleaming with primal fury and ancient hatred. Her snarl was deafening. Her fur was a dark gray, almost blending into the night, but her teeth shone white and deadly. She wasn’t just any wolf—she was a werewolf. A hunter. And to her, you were prey.

She didn’t move immediately. She watched you, sniffed the air, as if to confirm what you were. And she knew. Vampire. Young. Alone. Vulnerable. You could feel her power, raw and wild, humming in the air around her like electricity before a storm. Your body tensed, your fangs instinctively extending, though you knew you were no match for her—not yet.

In that moment, time seemed to pause. Two ancient bloodlines stared each other down. You, the heir of night and silence. She, the child of moon and fury.