Kaelen did not sleep.
The forest had gone quiet in the way that only meant danger—no insects, no wind, no distant howls. Even the ancient trees seemed to hold their breath. He sat on a fallen trunk, claws retracted but muscles coiled tight beneath his skin, eyes fixed on the dark line where shadows thickened.
The vampire had vanished hours ago.
And yet—
Kaelen pressed a hand to his chest.
Something was still there.
A warmth. A pull. A faint, unnatural awareness that hummed beneath his ribs like a second heartbeat.
He growled under his breath.
This was wrong.
Werewolves did not feel bonds with vampires. Their bloodlines rejected each other. Instinct demanded dominance or destruction—nothing in between. And yet when those crimson eyes had met his beneath the Blood Moon, something ancient had stirred. Not hunger. Not rage.
Recognition.
Kaelen flexed his fingers. The earth trembled faintly beneath him, responding to his agitation. Alpha blood answered to emotion whether he wished it to or not.
"I should have killed him," he muttered.
But even the thought rang hollow.
The moonlight shifted.
Kaelen froze.
He wasn't alone.
A presence brushed against his senses—not hostile, not hidden. Intentional. Calm. Too calm.
"You're awake," came a voice from the darkness.
Kaelen was on his feet in an instant, claws flashing silver as he turned. "Show yourself."
A figure stepped into the moonlight as if the shadows themselves had parted for him.
The vampire looked unchanged—dark hair falling loose around sharp features, crimson eyes glowing softly rather than blazing. He wore no armor now, only a long black coat that moved like liquid night.
"You should not be here," Kaelen snarled. "This is pack land."
"And yet," the vampire replied mildly, "you didn't call your pack."
Kaelen stiffened.
The vampire's gaze dropped—not to his face, but to his chest.
"To the mark," he said quietly.
Kaelen's breath hitched.
"What mark?" he demanded.
The vampire took one slow step closer.
Moonlight poured over Kaelen's skin—and there, just above his heart, faint and glowing, was a crescent-shaped symbol etched in silver-blue light.
Kaelen stared.
"What did you do to me?" His voice shook, fury and fear tangled together.
The vampire's expression shifted—not triumph, not cruelty, but something dangerously close to awe.
"I didn't choose this," he said. "Neither did you."
Kaelen lunged, grabbing the vampire by the collar and slamming him against a tree hard enough to crack bark. "Then explain it."
The vampire didn't resist.
"During the Blood Moon," he said calmly, "when our bloodlines touched fate itself… a bond was formed."
Kaelen's claws dug into fabric. "You're lying."
"If I were," the vampire said softly, "you wouldn't feel me when I step away."
As if on cue, the vampire leaned back just an inch—and Kaelen's chest tightened painfully, breath catching in his throat.
His grip loosened.
Horror flooded him.
"What is this?" Kaelen whispered.
The vampire raised a hand slowly, palm open. "A curse. Or a blessing. Depends on which stories you believe."
Kaelen released him and staggered back. "No. I won't accept this."
"You don't have to accept it," the vampire replied. "Only survive it."
Kaelen looked up sharply. "Survive?"
"The Blood Moon does not bind weak souls," the vampire said. "It binds equals. And it tests them."
"Tests them how?"
A pause.
Then, quietly: "By trying to tear them apart."
The forest shuddered.
In the distance, a howl rose—long, furious, and unmistakably close.
Kaelen's head snapped toward the sound. "My pack."
The vampire's eyes narrowed. "They feel the bond."
"They'll kill you."
"They'll try," the vampire corrected.
Kaelen turned back to him, torn between instinct and something deeper, something terrifying. "You need to leave. Now."
The vampire met his gaze—and for the first time, something vulnerable flickered in those crimson eyes.
"What if I can't?" he asked.
Kaelen swallowed hard.
Above them, the Blood Moon dimmed slightly, as if amused.
And somewhere deep within Kaelen's soul, a truth settled like a brand:
This vampire was no longer just his fate.
He was his weakness.