The forest had learned to fear the Nightborne.
Kael moved through it like a shadow unbound by flesh—silent, precise, inevitable. Frost clung to the branches above him, moonlight bleeding through the canopy in pale ribbons. Every sound, every shift of air, every heartbeat within a mile whispered itself to his senses.
And then—
The scent.
Kael halted mid-step.
It cut through the cold night like a blade through silk—warm, feral, wild. Werewolf. Fresh. Close.
His jaw tightened instinctively.
This land belonged to the vampire crown. Any wolf that crossed into it knew the cost. The law was clear, ancient, unbreakable: Kill on sight. No exceptions. No mercy.
Yet his body reacted before his mind could issue the command.
The scent wrapped around him, sinking into his lungs, igniting something dark and unfamiliar in his chest. Not hunger. Not rage.
Recognition.
Kael's fingers curled slowly at his sides. "Impossible," he murmured.
There was no reason for his heart to thunder like this. No reason for the air to feel charged, heavy, almost alive. He had hunted werewolves for over a century. He knew their smell. Their fear. Their blood.
This was different.
He followed it without conscious decision, boots barely touching the forest floor. The trail twisted deeper into the trees, leading him away from the estate, away from witnesses, away from reason.
Then he saw her.
She stood in a small clearing, moonlight washing over her form. Half-shifted—ears sharp, claws extended, eyes glowing molten gold. Blood streaked her arm, fresh and dark, dripping onto the snow beneath her feet.
She was alone.
Kael should have struck immediately.
Instead, he froze.
The moment their eyes met, the world tilted.
Something snapped inside him—an invisible thread pulled tight across his chest. Pain flared, sharp and sudden, stealing the air from his lungs. He staggered a step back, eyes burning as the same sensation echoed straight into his bones.
Across the clearing, she gasped.
Her knees buckled slightly, claws digging into the earth to keep herself upright. Her gaze locked onto his, wide with shock—not fear.
Recognition.
"What are you?" she whispered.
Kael straightened slowly, forcing control back into his limbs. His hand drifted to the hilt of his blade, though he did not draw it. "You're trespassing," he said, his voice calm, cold—trained. "This territory is under vampire protection."
She let out a short, breathless laugh. "Protection?" Her lip curled, exposing a sharp canine. "Your kind slaughtered my scouts."
That should have pleased him.
It didn't.
Kael studied her carefully. She was young—but not weak. There was tension in the way she stood, the coiled readiness of a fighter trained by necessity rather than luxury. Her scent—gods, her scent—pulled at him again, stronger now, burning hot in his chest.
The bond pulsed.
He staggered again, barely masking it.
Her head snapped up. "You felt that too," she said quietly.
Kael's eyes hardened. "Do not speak of what you do not understand."
"Then explain it," she challenged, taking a cautious step forward. "Because every instinct I have is screaming your name—and I don't even know it."
Silence fell between them, thick and dangerous.
Kael forced himself to draw his blade partway, the soft ring of steel cutting through the tension. "Leave. Now."
She didn't move.
Instead, the forest answered her.
A howl shattered the night—deep, furious, close.
Her head whipped toward the sound. "They found me."
Kael's senses exploded outward. Multiple heartbeats. Fast. Predatory. A rogue pack, unbound by clan law, moving hard and hungry through the trees.
"Run," Kael said sharply.
She looked back at him, eyes blazing. "Why?"
Because if they touched you, I would slaughter them all.
He swallowed the thought before it could reach his tongue. "Because you won't survive them."
Another howl—closer.
She hesitated only a second before turning, leaping into the trees with impossible speed. Kael followed without thinking, his body moving on instinct rather than command.
The chase was chaos—branches snapping, snow scattering, shadows tearing through the dark. Kael moved faster than any mortal eye could track, vaulting fallen logs, gliding over ravines.
Then the attack came.
A werewolf burst from the underbrush, massive and wild, claws swinging toward her exposed back. Kael moved without hesitation—blade fully drawn now, steel singing as it met flesh.
Blood sprayed across the snow.
The rogue wolf collapsed with a howl cut short.
Everything stopped.
The female wolf spun around, staring at the body, then at Kael. Her chest heaved. "You killed one of your own enemies… for me?"
He stared back, equally shaken.
"I don't know why," he admitted.
The bond surged again—hot, violent, undeniable.
More shadows closed in around them. More wolves. More bloodshed waiting to happen.
Kael stepped forward, placing himself between her and the approaching danger. His grip tightened on his blade.
"Stay behind me," he ordered.
She blinked. Then, slowly, a dangerous smile curved her lips. "Careful, vampire."
Her eyes glowed brighter. "You might regret choosing me."
Kael didn't look away.
"I already do," he said.
And yet, as the night closed in and the hunt truly began, he knew one thing with absolute certainty—
Meeting her was not an accident.
It was the beginning of a war written in blood, moonlight… and a bond neither of them was meant to survive.