The night was alive with danger, the air thick with tension. Toff's breath came in short gasps as his uncle, Gilbert, stepped closer, his piercing red eyes locking onto him. The other vampires held him down, their grips like steel. His newfound strength was useless against their sheer numbers.
Gilbert's face was unreadable, but his tone was sharp. "Toff, do you have any idea what's happening? People are dying, and your name is being whispered in the shadows."
Toff's chest tightened. "What are you talking about?"
"There are rumors," Gilbert said, his voice low. "Some believe you're responsible for the killings."
Toff's mind reeled. "That's insane! I—I don't even know what's going on."
Gilbert's expression hardened, but there was something else beneath it—concern. "You have no idea what you are."
Bret, who had been standing nearby, growled. "Let him go."
Blood dripped from a wound on Bret's forehead, but his golden eyes burned with defiance. His muscles tensed, ready to attack at any moment. Gilbert's gaze flickered toward Bret, his jaw tightening. Two werewolves. Together.
The realization dawned on him like a nightmare.
His son… a werewolf? It couldn't be.
Toff saw the change in Gilbert's, the way his stance shifted. "What? What is it?"
Gilbert ignored his question. Instead, he turned to the other vampires. "Take him. Now."
Bret lunged first.
With speed almost too fast to see, he tackled one of the vampires, his claws slashing through flesh. The scent of blood filled the air. A chorus of snarls erupted as the remaining vampires attacked, their fangs bared. The battle was chaos—claws against fangs, growls and screams echoing in the night.
Toff struggled against his restraints. His body was still weak, but he couldn't just stand there and watch. Summoning every ounce of strength, he wrenched free, the chains snapping as his power surged.
Gilbert sighed. "So be it."
In a blur, he was in front of Toff, his hand gripping his son's throat, lifting him off the ground. "You're strong, but you're not strong enough."
Toff gasped for air, his vision blurring. His fingers clawed at his father's iron grip, but it was useless. The vampires surrounding them stood motionless, watching in eerie silence.
"Why?" Toff choked out, struggling against the crushing weight on his windpipe. "Why are you doing this?"
Gilbert's crimson eyes burned into his. "Because you don't belong, Toff." His voice was calm, but there was something behind it—something almost hesitant. "They're calling for your head. They believe you're responsible for the killings."
Toff's body tensed. "That's a lie."
Gilbert's jaw clenched. "Maybe. But I can't protect you forever."
Toff's breath hitched. "Protect me? This—" he wheezed, fingers tightening on his father's wrist "—this doesn't feel like protection."
"You don't understand," Gilbert growled. "The Mondec Empire is ruthless. If they find you guilty, they'll erase you. I had to bring you in first, before they—"
"Toff is innocent," Bret's voice cut through the night. He stepped forward, blood dripping from his forehead, but his golden eyes burned with fury. "You know that."
Gilbert turned to him, his expression darkening. "Stay out of this, wolf."
"He doesn't have to," Toff spat. He forced himself to look his father in the eyes, anger bubbling to the surface. "You don't even know me, do you? You're too busy playing your part for the Empire to even see me as your son."
Gilbert's fingers twitched.
"If you wanted to protect me," Toff continued, his voice shaking, "you wouldn't be holding me like this."
For the briefest second, hesitation flickered across Gilbert's face. But then, his grip tightened again, his emotions buried beneath years of duty.
"Listen to me, Toff," he said. "If you run now, there's no coming back. The Mondec Empire will never stop hunting you."
"I was never part of them," Toff shot back. "I don't need them. And I don't need you."
Gilbert's eyes darkened, but before he could say anything else—
A gunshot rang through the night.
Gilbert staggered back, a bullet lodged in his shoulder. From the shadows, Alexa stepped forward, holding a silver pistol, her expression cold and unwavering. "That's enough."
Gilbert's lips curled into a smirk despite the wound. "A witch. How quaint."
Alexa ignored him and turned to Toff. "We need to go. Now."
Bret grabbed Toff's arm, pulling him toward the woods. The remaining vampires hesitated, wary of Alexa's magic. That hesitation was all they needed.
They ran.
The three of them didn't stop until they reached an abandoned mansion deep in the forest. The inside was grand but neglected—dust-covered furniture, broken chandeliers, and torn curtains swaying in the breeze. Candles flickered along the cracked walls, casting eerie shadows.
Toff collapsed onto an old couch, his body aching. Bret crouched beside him, his breathing heavy.
"Are you okay?" Bret asked, his voice softer now.
Toff looked into his eyes. "No. But I don't think I ever will be again."
Bret reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Toff's face. "You're not alone in this."
Something inside Toff broke. The weight of everything—his father's words, the rumors, the fact that he had no idea what was happening—it all came crashing down. Without thinking, he pulled Bret closer, their lips colliding in a desperate, heated kiss.
Bret didn't pull away. Instead, he deepened it, his hands roaming over Toff's trembling body. The fire between them ignited, consuming their fears, their doubts. In that moment, they weren't fugitives. They were just two people, seeking solace in each other's arms.
The night stretched on, their bodies tangled in the moonlit room.
But outside, in the darkness, danger loomed.
Alexa stood by the window, her arms crossed as she glanced at them. When they finally pulled apart, she let out a heavy sigh. "We don't have time for this," she said, her voice sharp. "The Mondec Empire has officially named you the prime suspect, Toff. They think you're behind the killings."
Toff's breath hitched. "What? That doesn't make any sense."
Alexa's expression darkened. "There are rumors spreading fast. Witnesses claim the victims were mauled by something inhuman. And now that you've… changed, they're using you as their scapegoat."
Bret clenched his fists. "This is exactly what they've always done. Blame the Dark Moon Society for everything."
Alexa frowned. "The Dark Moon Society?"
Bret exhaled sharply and stood, pacing the room. "The Dark Moon Society has existed for centuries—werewolves who learned to live in secrecy among humans. We were forced into hiding after the Mondec Empire, led by the vampires, began hunting us down."
Alexa listened intently as he continued, his voice filled with barely restrained anger. "It started with a pact. A balance. Vampires ruled the cities from the shadows, keeping their existence hidden while feeding on only what was necessary. Werewolves lived in the wilderness, bound by a different law. But that balance never lasted."
"The Mondec Empire wanted more," he continued. "They saw us as threats. Beasts who couldn't be tamed. Over time, they turned the world against us. Called us monsters. Every time something unexplained happened—deaths, disappearances—they blamed us. Forced us further into the dark."
Toff swallowed hard. "And now they're blaming me."
Bret nodded. "It's a perfect excuse. You're caught between both worlds—neither vampire nor fully werewolf. To them, you're unpredictable. Dangerous."
Alexa sighed. "Which means they'll do everything to take you out before you can prove them wrong."
Toff ran a hand through his hair, his mind spinning. "So what do we do?"
Bret's golden eyes burned with determination. "We fight back. We find the real killer before they use this as an excuse to start another war."
Alexa nodded. "Then we better start now. Because if the Mondec Empire wants you dead, they won't wait long."
Outside, the wind howled through the trees, carrying with it the scent of blood and war yet to come.
At the Mondec Empire's penthouse, the air was thick with the scent of wine, blood, and desire. Moonlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting silver streaks over silk sheets tangled around bare bodies.
Lord Vlad lay back against the plush pillows, his sculpted form partially covered by his lover—a young man with raven-black hair, his body draped lazily across the vampire lord's chest. Vlad idly traced a cold finger along the man's spine, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement as Gilbert stood stiffly by the door.
"They escaped," Gilbert admitted, his voice clipped.
Vlad didn't even glance up. He lifted his glass of wine, swirling the dark liquid before taking a slow sip. "Interesting."
Gilbert clenched his jaw. "The rumors are getting worse. People are afraid. If we don't get ahead of this, Toff will be hunted down by both sides."
Vlad hummed in mock contemplation, his hand slipping lower on his lover's back. The young man shuddered under his touch, exhaling a breathy moan, but Vlad's gaze remained locked on Gilbert. "Then why not let them hunt him?"
Gilbert's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "You want him dead?"
At that, Vlad finally shifted, moving his lover aside with a casual ease before rising from the bed. He strode toward Gilbert, completely unbothered by his nakedness, exuding an air of effortless dominance.
"On the contrary." Vlad's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "A hybrid with that much power… he could be useful."
Gilbert's expression darkened. "You want to turn him."
Vlad's smirk widened as he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. "Exactly."
A sharp inhale came from the bed as Vlad's lover watched the exchange with curious eyes, but neither vampire acknowledged him. The room was thick with tension, but Gilbert knew—arguing with Lord Vlad was a battle he couldn't win.
Still, he wasn't ready to surrender Toff. Not yet.