The abandoned park lay on the edge of the city, where streetlights failed and weeds crept through rusted playground equipment. The wind howled through twisted metal, creating an off-key, ghostly symphony.
Kara stopped near a motionless carousel. The cold cut through her coat, but she barely noticed. Her mind was fixed on one thing alone: ending the game Rose had started.
"You came."
The voice came from above.
Kara looked up. Rose sat atop the carousel's structure, swinging her legs like a bored child. She leapt down, landing silently just a few feet away.
"I said I would," Kara replied, keeping her voice steady even as her hands trembled inside her pockets.
"And you came alone." Rose inhaled deeply, scenting the air. "No 'mama bear.' Very good."
Rose circled Kara, her heels clicking against cracked concrete.
"You know, I'm impressed. You saw the monster back at the mansion. You saw what I did to your friend. And still — you're here. Is that courage, or stupidity?"
"It's exhaustion, Rose." Kara turned to keep her in sight. "I'm tired of watching you threaten the people I love. What do you want? Alice has suffered enough because of you."
Rose stopped. Her smile vanished.
"Because of me?" She laughed bitterly. "You know nothing about us. Alice abandoned me. She chose human morality over her own sister. She left me in the shadows while she played at being human. And now… now she chooses you."
Rose stepped closer, the mask of civility crumbling.
"You are living proof of her weakness. A fragile, temporary little pet that makes her vulnerable. Remove you from the equation, and Alice becomes who she was again. She becomes mine."
"She will never be yours if you hurt me," Kara shot back. "She'll hate you forever."
"Hatred is better than indifference." Rose's eyes ignited crimson. Her fangs descended, long and lethal.
"And grief… grief will remind her that immortality is lonely."
There was no more talking.
Rose attacked.
It wasn't a shove or a scare — it was a blur of violence. Kara didn't even have time to scream. Rose slammed into her, throwing her onto the packed earth with crushing force.
The air burst from Kara's lungs. Before she could react, Rose was on top of her, pinning her arms with one hand and gripping her jaw with the other.
"Say goodbye, Kara."
Rose didn't hesitate. With a feral snarl, she drove her fangs into Kara's neck.
The pain was absolute.
White fire tore through skin and muscle. Kara tried to scream, but the sound drowned in her own blood. She felt her life being ripped away, swallowed in frantic gulps. Darkness crept in from the edges of her vision. Cold seeped into her limbs.
And then—
The world exploded.
A scream of pure, inhuman fury tore through the night.
Something struck Rose with the force of a meteor, ripping her off Kara and hurling her into a thick tree ten meters away. The trunk split in two on impact.
Kara lay on the ground, one hand pressed to her neck as blood poured through her fingers, watching shapes move too fast to focus.
Alice was there.
But not the Alice Kara knew.
She was fury made flesh. Her eyes were pits of darkness and fire.
"I WILL KILL YOU!" Alice roared.
Rose rose from the shattered tree, spitting blood — Kara's blood. She smiled, manic.
"Too late, sister. She's already dying."
Alice answered with action.
What followed was a titanic clash. They didn't fight like humans — they fought like ancient gods. Alice grabbed Rose by the throat and dragged her across the ground, concrete shattering beneath them. Rose retaliated with claws, shredding Alice's red coat, slicing pale skin.
They collided in midair, crashed, rolled, struck, and bit. But Alice had something Rose didn't.
Desperation.
Alice pinned Rose to the ground, her hand locked around her sister's throat, ready to tear her head off.
"I warned you," Alice hissed, tears of blood streaming down her face.
"I told you not to touch her."
Rose met Alice's gaze. She saw madness there. She saw certainty — Alice would kill her. But more than that, she saw pain. She saw that this love wasn't a phase or a distraction.
It was Alice's anchor.
Rose stopped fighting. She glanced toward Kara, pale as moonlight, life draining into the dirt.
"Go…" Rose choked, her voice breaking. "If you don't… she dies."
Alice looked at Kara. Hatred gave way to panic.
She shoved her sister aside in disgust.
Rose staggered to her feet, clutching a broken arm, breathing hard. She looked at Kara, then at Alice kneeling beside the human.
"You win, Alice," Rose whispered as she retreated into the trees.
"Love has finally defeated blood."
And she vanished into the night — wounded and alone.
Alice dropped to her knees beside Kara.
It was a nightmare.
Kara's neck was torn open. Blood, warm, vibrant blood Alice had always admired —soaked her clothes, the ground, everything.
"Kara… no, no, no…" Alice pressed her hands over the wound, but the blood slipped through her fingers.
Kara looked at her. The world was gray, distant. She was so cold. She tried to lift her hand, to touch Alice's face, but she had no strength.
"Alice…" she whispered, her voice bubbling.
"Shh. Don't speak. Stay with me." Alice was sobbing, crimson tears falling onto Kara's pale face.
"I won't lose you. I refuse."
But Kara's heart was failing. The beats grew slow, spaced apart.
Thump…
…
… thump…
Alice knew there was no time for a hospital. Kara had lost too much blood. There was only one way — an ancient law that healed, but forged an eternal bond.
"Kara, listen…" Alice raised her wrist and bit down hard, tearing into her own vein. Dark, dense vampiric blood welled up.
"You have to drink. Now."
She pressed her wrist to Kara's lips.
"Drink, my love. Please. Drink."
On the edge of consciousness, Kara felt the warm liquid touch her mouth. Instinct took over. She opened her lips and swallowed.
The effect was immediate and overwhelming.
It didn't taste like blood. There was iron, yes — but also electricity, ozone before a storm, life distilled.
As Alice's blood slid down her throat, the pain in Kara's neck vanished, replaced by searing heat that spread from her stomach to every limb.
It was as if a star ignited inside her.
And then—
The connection.
Suddenly, Kara wasn't just drinking.
She was feeling.
She felt Alice's fear. Her desperate love. Her crushing guilt. She saw flashes of memories that weren't hers: an ancient city in flames, centuries of solitude in a library, Kara's face seen through Alice's eyes — bright, precious, singular.
A spiritual bond formed like an unbreakable golden cord, tying the human's soul to the vampire's. Kara heard Alice's voice inside her mind, clear as crystal:
Stay. Come back to me.
Kara's failing heart surged with energy and began to beat again — strong, steady. The wound on her neck sealed itself, cells regenerating at an impossible speed.
Kara gasped, dragging in air, her eyes snapping open.
The first thing she saw was Alice hovering over her, face smeared with dirt and blood, eyes filled with terror and hope.
"Alice…" Kara's voice was steady now.
Alice let out a broken sob and pulled her into her arms, burying her face against Kara's neck—now healed, though marked by a fresh scar.
"I've got you. I've got you."
Kara wrapped her arms around Alice, feeling the vampire's vitality humming beneath her own skin. She wasn't just Kara anymore.
She carried part of Alice within her.
And strangely—
She had never felt so whole.
The next morning, sterile hospital light burned Kara's eyes as she slowly woke in a white bed, her body heavy — but alive.
The first thing she saw was Natalie, asleep in an uncomfortable chair beside her, holding her hand.
At Kara's movement, Natalie jolted awake.
"You're awake!" Tears filled her eyes. "Oh my God, Kara!"
Moments later, the door burst open. Jimmy and Maria — Kara's parents — rushed in, faces etched with panic from their emergency trip back from Florida.
"Kara!" Maria sobbed, hugging her tightly. "The hospital called… they said you were attacked… we thought—"
Jimmy took Kara's hand, pale.
"A wild animal, the doctors said. An attack in the park. Why were you there, sweetheart?"
Kara looked at her parents — their love, their fear. Then at Natalie.
Natalie's eyes were ringed with exhaustion, but there was understanding there. She knew. She had seen Alice bring Kara to the ER and vanish before questions could be asked.
"I… I don't know," Kara lied softly. "I don't remember much."
After her parents calmed down and stepped out to speak with the doctor, the room fell quiet. Natalie sat on the edge of the bed.
"She brought you," Natalie whispered. "She was covered in blood, Kara. But she saved you. Again."
Kara touched her neck, where a bandage hid Rose's bite and the magical scar beneath. She could feel Alice. Not physically, but close. Watching. Lurking somewhere beyond the hospital walls.
"Nat…" Kara met her friend's eyes. "Everything that happened… all of this…"
"I know," Natalie interrupted, squeezing her hand. "Don't worry. What matters is that you're okay."
Kara swallowed. "Despite everything… I'm relieved. Even with us having to deal with those sisters."
"Vampires," Natalie said, the word heavy in the sterile air. She shivered, but didn't let go of Kara's hand.
"And it looks like… we're in this up to our necks."
Kara nodded slowly. Alice's blood pulsed in her veins, synchronized with her still-beating heart.
"Yes. We are."
She looked toward the window. Outside, the sun shone brightly — but Kara knew her life now belonged to the night.
And for the first time—
She wasn't afraid.
She had Alice.
And Alice, she knew, would never let her go again.