You want to kill me, don't you, Mikhail? Mikhail's eyes darkened. "That's what I'm supposed to want. But I can't." In the shadows of a war-torn Romania, werewolves and vampires vie for dominance. But when Mikhail, the ruthless werewolf warrior, meets Andrea, the vampire lord's daughter with a dark secret, an unexpected bond forms. As prophecies unravel and loyalties shift, can they prevent an all-out war – or are they doomed to become its very heart?
Mikhail gripped even harder the straps of his leather pack, one long look at the forest taking his golden-tinged eyes. The night was quiet, too quiet. He shifted his stance on the wet ground, carefully each step. He deliberately moved silently, as any slip would lead to disastrous repercussions so near the enemy base.
"This was not the greatest plan," he said to himself. "Vampire borderheading. Gosh, Mikhail.Really."
The shadows were angry for it was already nightfall. And he had previously estimated that he would be travelling for some time,But he couldn't stop now. Ever since the faint outline of the vampire region had appeared on the horizon, it had been like a destination in a mirage about to disappear.
In the distance, he could hear a growl, low but lingering all the same. As his heart began to race, he froze completely in place. As he inhaled the blended air, he could clearly tell that there was a wolf nearby, although dosed in an uncomfortable rest. It was far too weak, almost ghostly, and that uneasiness forced him to stand still with his bones rigid as if made of wood.
Another growl followed, sharper and more commanding. This time much nearer. With the further descent of the moon's diameter into the darker half of the globe, the cut shape of the dagger around his waist gleamed due to the silvery tint, so moving slow and forth was no longer an option."Show yourself," he called out, voice steady but low.
Mikhail was now face to face with the beast who could possibly empty him of his last breath. An enormous werewolf without a hint of care or decor was staring him down. Any empathizing anger which the patchy golden fur had for Mikhail was now sweeping through its bloodshot eyes. A rogue.
"Though I smelled a coward, the rogue sneered, voice guttural but human enough to be understood. "What's a pup like you doing this far out? Lost?"
Mikhail didn't flinch. "Not lost. Just passing through."
The rogue chuckled, a sound that sent a chill down Mikhail's spine. "Passing through? Don't lie to me, boy. No one crosses this border unless they're desperate. Or stupid."
Mikhail tightened his grip on the dagger. "Maybe I'm both."
The rogue's grin widened, revealing jagged teeth. "Bold. But boldness won't save you. This is my territory now. Do you want to pass? You pay the toll."
Mikhail tilted his head, forcing a smirk. "And what's the toll?"
The rogue sneered, abruptly assailing without warning.
Mikhail had barely been able to react and had been rolling to his aside when the claws' slash had managed to breach the space. The rogue was fast-faster than Mikhail expected. He jumped up and turned around, facing the growling monster.
His words escaped as did any emotion, "This is reckless,," but Mikhail remained focused and determined to bring the split.
The thief responded with a shout, and hurtled forward once more. Mikhail dropped low and thrust outwards with his knife. The weapon found its target, carving into the rogue's flank.
The rogue screeched in pain but didn't stop. He threw a huge arm, hitting Mikhail across the body and sending him thwack into a tree.
Pain came alive in the flanks of Mikhail, but he clenched his teeth and moved himself upright. "Fine," he spat, wiping blood from his mouth. "You want a fight? Let's fight."
The rogue hesitated for a moment, sniffing the air. His bloodshot eyes narrowed. "You smell like the pack. Alpha's blood runs through you, doesn't it?"
Mikhail didn't answer.
The rogue snarled. "You're one of his pups. I should've known. I'll enjoy ripping you apart."
Mikhail's eye gold flashed, instincts reanimated, wolf-like. "You can try."
The rogue lunged again, claws slashing. This time, Mikhail was ready. He parried first and then suddenly (he) spun behind the thug and pushed his knife into his back. The rogue screamed as he swung and Mikhail received the blow, but he already knew that he had to move, landing a really powerful kick to the back of its knee.
There was a snarl from the rogue when he had fallen, but in a moment he was up again. He spun around, his claws flashing as he grabbed Mikhail's arm.
Mikhail hissed as the claws ripped his sleeve and went into the flesh. He smacked the rogue's jaw with his elbow and fled.
You're quite skilled, the rogue panted with blood streaming from his wounds. "But still not skilled enough"
Mikhail smirked and said that his chest was still swollen with the breath. "There's no question about it - let time show us."
The rogue charged again, but this time, Mikhail didn't retreat. He confronted the attack face-on, by applying his inertia to bring down the deviant to the floor. They wrestled, rolling around in the dirt and foliage, all striving to hit the winning lick.
Mikhail's strength was waning. He could feel it-the rogue's weight pressing down on him, the sting of his injuries slowing him.
"Getting tired, pup? The rogue taunted, his claws inches from Mikhail's throat.
Mikhail clenched his teeth as best he could and managed all the remaining energy he could have in reserve. "Not yet."
With a flood of work, he wrenched, turning the madman over on his back. Before the beast could even react, Mikhail thrust his dagger into its chest cavity.
The rogue's pupils grew to the size of saucers, and a creepy, devil like growl burst from his throat. It was when Mikhail managed to spin the blade, and the thug's body dropped into the ditch.
For a moment, Mikhail didn't move. He remained crouched on the body of the rogue, his chest oppressed, and the smell of blood inundated his nostrils.
At last, he got up hobbled, and pulled out his dagger. His arm hurt despite the fact that the rogue's claws were gone into him, and yet he did not have the time to think about the wound. The look on his face and the impassive way in which he sheathed the weapon told the whole story.
"Idiot," he grumbled, looking down at the rogue. "Could've walked away."
A pleasant gust of wind replaced the whispering of the leaves. Mikhail's eyes squinted. Vampire.
He turned around and examined the darkness carefully. The smell was hard to tell, but he knew it was there. Someone was watching him.
"Come out," he called, voice low but firm.
No response.
Mikhail took a step forward, then another. The scent grew stronger, closer.
You've been watching me," he hissed, growling. "Show yourself."
Still, no response.
Mikhail's fingers were dying for his dagger to reach them. Still, he persuaded himself to be calm, "Alright," the tone of his voice was colder then. "Crouch down in the shadows and never let me see you for the rest of your life unless you want me to end it,"I won't hesitate too.
A light laughter lingered around and about the trees, ghostly. "You're quite the fighter, wolf."
Mikhail's blood ran cold. The voice was feminine, soft, and unmistakably vampire.
Before he could respond, a figure stepped into the moonlight.
Her skin was as pale as a ghost, yet her silvery eyes were shining like stars. It was an otherworldly beauty, almost like an illusion. However, the single thing he could not take his eyes off was the blemish on her cheek, a memory he was too familiar with.
"You..." Mikhail's voice trailed off, his golden eyes narrowing.
The woman looked aside with a subtly curved lip of a smile. "You have covered a long way, wolf. Nevertheless, you are nowhere near where you should be for safety."
Mikhail clenched his jaw, his hand resting near his dagger. "Who are you?"
The woman's grin broadened, but there was no friendliness in it. "Someone you are better off not to have met."
Before Mikhail could react, she disappeared into the shadows, letting him be alone amidst the moonlight forest.
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