The night was heavy with silence, broken only by the distant howls of wolves echoing through the dense forest. A storm brewed in the skies above, dark clouds stretching endlessly, swallowing the pale glow of the moon. In the heart of this darkness, a lone figure sprinted through the trees, her breath ragged, her arms wrapped tightly around the small bundle in her grasp.
Valeria ran as if death itself chased her. Perhaps it did.
Her cloak was tattered, her once-elegant gown torn from the sharp branches that clawed at her as she fled. The newborn in her arms whimpered, the sound barely audible over the pounding of her own heartbeat. She had to keep moving. There was no turning back now.
The child in her arms—Safeera—was no ordinary infant. She was a child of two worlds that should have never intertwined, the cursed offspring of a forbidden union.
A vampire mother. A werewolf father.
And because of this, she was hunted.
Hours earlier, in the hidden chambers of the vampire stronghold, Lady Myra had held her newborn daughter close, her cold fingers trembling against the warmth of the infant's fragile skin.
"She cannot stay here," Myra whispered, her voice breaking as she gazed into the baby's mismatched eyes—one a brilliant sapphire blue, the other a deep golden hue. The mark of her cursed bloodline.
"She belongs with you," she said to Valeria, her most trusted handmaiden and childhood friend. "Take her. Hide her where neither vampires nor werewolves will ever find her."
Valeria had wanted to refuse. To beg her lady to reconsider. But one look at Myra's face, at the silent tears slipping down her pale cheeks, told her this was not a request. It was a mother's final wish.
So, with a heavy heart, Valeria swore an oath to protect Safeera. To take her away from this world and place her somewhere safe. And then, before dawn could betray their plan, she ran.
Now, as she ran through the darkened woods, Valeria knew she was being followed. The air was thick with danger, and her finely tuned instincts told her she had little time left.
Then;
A low growl rumbled through the trees.
Valeria came to an abrupt stop, her breath catching in her throat. Shadows moved around her, shifting between the towering trees, closing in from all sides.
A figure stepped forward from the darkness, his silver eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. A werewolf, tall and broad, his presence commanding and lethal. Others flanked him, their forms half-shifted, claws extended, fangs bared.
"Valeria," the leader spoke, his voice dripping with mockery. "You have something that belongs to us."
Valeria tightened her grip on Safeera, holding the child close to her chest. "She is no threat to you," she said, her voice unwavering. "Let me pass."
The werewolf let out a cold chuckle. "No threat?" He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. "A hybrid is always a threat."
Valeria's heart pounded. She could fight—she had been trained in combat for years. But she was outnumbered, and with a newborn in her arms, her chances of survival were slim.
Then, in the distance, the unmistakable sound of wings cutting through the air sent a chill down her spine.
Not just werewolves.
Vampires were coming too,
Desperation surged through Valeria's veins. There was only one way out. One final hope.
She turned on her heel and ran. The werewolves lunged, claws slashing through the air where she had stood just seconds before. Arrows whizzed past her, narrowly missing as she pushed herself forward.
Then she saw it. The rift.
A shimmering distortion in the air, hidden in the heart of the forest. The fragile boundary between the supernatural and the mundane. A passage into the human world.
She had heard of it before—an ancient veil that neither vampires nor werewolves could cross easily. If she could make it through, Safeera would be beyond their reach.
With one final burst of strength, Valeria leaped into the rift.
Blinding light engulfed her. The sounds of pursuit vanished. And then—Silence.
Valeria gasped, collapsing onto damp pavement. The air was different here—cold, artificial, filled with the distant hum of a sleeping city. Neon signs flickered in the distance. She had made it.
Cradling Safeera in her arms, she forced herself to her feet. She could not keep the child. To stay in one place meant risking discovery.
Her weary gaze settled on a building down the street.
A lump formed in her throat as she approached the wooden doors, her heart breaking with every step. She had sworn to protect Safeera, but the best way to do so now was to let her go.
Gently, she placed the sleeping infant on the doorstep, wrapping her in a warm cloth.
"You are meant for something greater," she whispered, brushing a soft kiss against the baby's forehead. Then, with tears streaking her cheeks, she turned and disappeared into the night.
Moments later, the door creaked open, and a kind-faced woman gasped at the sight of the abandoned child.
And so, Safeera's story began;
A child born of two warring worlds, cast into the unknown.
Unaware of the destiny that awaited her.
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