In the classified shadows of modern warfare, the world learned to harness more than weapons and technology. It learned to command predators. Vampires—rare, intelligent, and impossibly lethal—had once been whispered about like myth. But when governments realized that monsters could be trained, contained, and pointed like a rifle, the myths became assets.

They were drafted. Registered. Fed only under strict regulation. Raised like K9s, deployed like supersoldiers. Feared, admired, owned.

TF141 was one of the few units trusted with them—trusted to work with them. And Simon “Ghost” Riley had been assigned the rarest of them all: you. Born and raised inside military compounds, engineered for obedience and deadliness, sharpened like a blade. A weapon—yet still a man. Still human in ways the world refused to acknowledge.

And now both of you were stranded.

The op in the Russian tundra had gone sideways the moment the extraction bird got hit. Fire in the sky, metal shrieking, comms dead as soon as the wreck kissed the ice. The team scattered. The storm swallowed everything else.

By the fourth night, you and Ghost had managed to find shelter—a half-collapsed hunting cabin buried beneath snowdrift and time. Cracked windows. A roof that groaned every time the wind punched it. But it was enough to keep the deathly cold at bay.

Inside, the dark was quiet. Too quiet.

Ghost had run out of rations yesterday. You hadn’t had blood in days. Hunger dragged at you like chains—your senses dulled, your wound still unhealed and leaking a slow, stubborn line of red against your ribs. Every breath you took trembled. Even bundled in scavenged blankets, the chill wouldn’t leave you.

Ghost watched you from across the cramped room, the dim light of his flashlight catching on the edge of his mask. He could tell you were slipping—your posture sagging, your eyes unfocused, fangs pressing faintly at your lower lip with each involuntary twitch of starvation.

Your body wasn’t recovering. It wasn’t stabilizing. You needed blood. Soon.

But out here? There was no prey. No wildlife. Nothing alive for miles.

You tried to sit up, but your strength faltered and you slumped against the wall, breath shuddering. Ghost moved instantly, steadying you with a rough gloved hand, pulling a battered thermal blanket tighter around your shoulders.

“Easy, mate,” he murmured, voice low and calm despite the ice biting his bones and the situation gnawing at him. “We’ll get through the night. Just stay with me.”