The year 2021, Present Day..........
In the distance, the gloomy sky was rolling above her as she kneeled over the freshly dug wet dirt. The rain is pelting down in torrents, lashing against her back with ferocity. It’s bitterly cold outside, but that doesn’t seem to bother her as the pain in her heart appears to overpower all other emotions. It has only been a day since they arrive in Bunga. The rest of the refugees who boarded with Lockheed C130 Hercules plane came from the east of Azran. They fled since the communist group had taken control of their country and the government had abandoned its people, leaving them to fend for themselves in the face of overwhelming odds. Rachel and her sickly senior citizen mother were fortunate enough to take the military aircraft as the forces of neighboring countries withdrew their connections with Azrans. It all happened far too quickly. They were only eating their breakfast while watching the news on television, which was reporting on the terrorist group that was wreaking havoc throughout their country. She is not politically inclined and has little interest in the parliamentary system of their government. The only thing on which she could concentrate was on keeping the roof over their heads, paying the bills, and purchasing the medication that her mother required on a daily basis. They were living from paycheck to paycheck, free from the extravagance in life, and seemed to be contented with it as long as she had her mother. They’ve always been together since her father died due to pneumonia and promised on his deathbed to take good care of her mother. She kept that promise. Just then, a sudden loud explosion erupted through the city, shaking the ground into dust. The intense impact knocked Rachel down on her knees, her heart thumping viciously on her chest. Afraid not for herself but to her mother. Quickly she jumped back to her feet and dashed to her mother’s side, who is fortunately still sitting on the chair. She gripped her by the arm and gently pulled her, keeping her protected from the falling debris using her one arm as they got out from their small rental apartment. Chaos erupted on the street, with people fleeing in all directions in a state of terror. Smoke and clouds of dust blanketed the roads, bringing the cars toa grinding halt as their tires screeched against the asphalt. A few people remained motionless, stunned by what had just occurred, while the sounds of cries resounded all around them—those who were wounded and those who were mourning for the lives that were gone. The blasts were like a tornado that hit them, sending splinters of both types of wood, metal, and shards of glass hurtling through the air like bullets. The tall skyscraper leveled to the ground, and fire erupted, making the atmosphere in bloody hues. Even though it was horrifying to look at, Rachel managed to maintain her composure despite her emotions raging inside her. She took a deep breath and looked for a way out, all the while keeping her mother by her side. Simply motivated by the adrenaline rush, she noticed an unlocked vehicle in the distance. Rachel ushered her inside the emptied door, settling her on the passenger’s seat and securing the straps across her chest before sprinting towards the driver’s seat. Fortunately, the key was still inserted into the ignition, and she didn’t have to go through the maze of wires to get the car to start again. She immediately twisted the key and sparked up the engine, stepping through the gas and drive off. She wasn’t an excellent driver, nor did she desire to ignore the call for desperation, especially when their life was on the line. She noticed a stout man waving both his hand in the air through the rearview, motioning them to stop. He was shouting behind and tried to chase them, but she pressed the gas harder, spraying more dust in its wake. Probably the owner of the car she had stolen. “I'm sorry,” she mumbles, her gaze fixed on the tangle of traffic ahead. Steering to avoid being hit or to hit people that were running along the centerline. With her hands gripping the seatbelt as if her life depended on it, Rachel’s mother shot her an unflattering look, but she only bit her lips and refused to meet her gaze. Her morals about stealing flew out through the window. All of them were confused, scared, and desperate to Stay alive. She followed the rush of the distorted crowd, and it had taken them to the nearby Military Airforce of their city. Large aircraft were already taking off, and the crowds were waiting to board them were crammed together on the steel runway gate. The process of Starting a stampede has begun. “What are we doing here, Rachie?” Her mother asked as she was about to click the buckle off from her seatbelt. She looked at her in the eyes. Pair of confused steel grey stared back at her. “See that, mother? We'll be going to ride one of them and leave the country.” She took her frail hands, clasping at them as she tried to explain to her what was happening. “Leaving? Where would we go?” Her mother countered, appalled by the idea to leave the country where she was born and bred. “Away from here, and we'll start a new life.” “But Azran—” “Everything is in disarray, and people are fleeing, including us.” She cut her off because she didn’t want to extend their stay in this place any longer than necessary. It pains her as well to leave the country that she knew of. The memories she had with her father and everything in her life. It was a decision that she didn’t expect she could come up to, but they are in haste, and there’s no time for second thoughts. Either they lived, or they died. Nonetheless, at this point, all she wanted to do was get her mother somewhere she could be safe. Another explosion erupted, hitting the same spot as the first one. Rachel braced her mother as the car rocked furiously, and the people around them had been knocked down from the impact. As soon as they recovered from the bow, she helped her climbed down the car, and then they weaved through the throng of eager people. Shielding her mother against the tight bodies that were pressing against them. They reached through the gate. She begged one of the foreign military men to passed through. They were denied at first, said that no civilians were allowed to enter military premises, but she was persistent and kept on begging. She even asked them to take her mother despite her protest. Chaos had raged on, ramming the steel gate until it groaned under the influx of the crowd. Rachel took the distraction to her advantage and dragged her mother as they slipped through the military personnel without being noticed. As the gate collapsed and the camp was breached, some of them rushed to join the others. They race through the last plane. Its ramp was still down, and Rachel urged her mother to hold it into her hands as they ran. Her legs started to falter, her knees buckled, but she kept on pushing and never looked back. As they get closer to the ramp, one of the military personnel onboard manages to reach his arm. She first gave him her mother’s hand to ensure that she boarded the plane safely before leaping and hitching the ramp as the aircraft began to take off and take off. Relief washed over her when the aircraft lifted from the ground. She hugged her mother and stayed close to each other as they were being transported to another place where they would start anew. However, this is what she wasn’t expecting. She never thought that she would be left alone in this new place. She had only fallen asleep, and when she woke up, her mother’s cold, lifeless body huddled into her. She thought she was only having a nightmare, that she hadn’t woken up yet and that her mother was only playing a joke on her. Unfortunately, she doesn’t play jokes. Rachel called out for help, and even before they landed, her mother was declared dead. The feeling of relief had been replaced by one of grief. She was partly blaming herself for her death. The exertion from running and nervousness must have taken a toll on her life. She was sickly and old, and if only she had listened to her and didn’t leave their country, she could’ve been alive still. Rachel closed her eyes, her sobs drowned by the rolling thunder that roared above her. Tears were blending with the rush of raindrops rolling on her cheeks as she cried. Dirt was caked under her nails, digging her fingers at her mother’s grave. “Mother, I’m so sorry,” she lamented, weeping in the middle of the rain. She was buried along the military base here in Bunga, a privilege given to them by the Bunga government. As an asylum to those who have taken refuge in their country. Slick footsteps caught her attention, but she didn’t turn around to see who it was. Only then the rainfall parted around her as the silhouette of an umbrella hovered above her head, and a hand landed over her shoulder. Offering as sympathizing pat. “Miss Dockham, there’s a storm coming. You need to get back inside.” She recognizes the woman’s voice. The military doctor helped her on the plane when she noticed that her mother wasn’t breathing anymore. Breathing out heavily, she opened her eyes once more and stared at the single white rose that was placed on top of her mother’s grave. “I love you,” with a whisper, she stood. Careless with the mud that stained her legs from kneeling too long on the ground before she turned around, urging her feet to take heavy steps back into the tent where she had stayed. The doctor followed her but didn’t say anything. Now that she is left alone, Rachel doesn’t even know how to start picking up the broken pieces of her life in this foreign land. But one thing she’s sure of, everything is about to change, and fate had begun rolling her destiny in its palm.At the tallest building in Bunga City............ Behind the chromic steel spacious desk, beyond the stack of documented papers, stood an imposing man dressed impeccably in a tight charcoal suit that stretches with every movement. Dylan stared to his reflection at the floor-to-ceiling glass windowsill, giving him a full panoramic display of the washed-out blue sky above him and the entire bustling city below. Prominent skyscrapers compete with one another to reach his level, but none have succeeded in surpassing what he had built for centuries. Even after all the years he had spent here in Bunga, the memories of his past still burn in his head like they happened yesterday. The death of his mate, Laura, her smiling face, and her harrowing death. His son, Myro, was still so young when it happened, a pure life that was taken too early. Though he was looking at the sight that stretched ahead of him, his mind flew back towards the memories that haunted him every single day. He can’t
Sighing, she pushed her hand to her jeans and was about to pull out her left-over coins when the shirt that the man was wearing began to tear off. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth hung ajar as his body started to swell, getting bigger and bigger, hairs growing all over him, turning into a coat of white fur. Limbs bent awkwardly until it stood in all fours, furry tail spurted out from his coccyx. Rachel was frozen in her place as she witnessed the man turn into a dog-like beast, a humungous beast resembling a wolf. ‘Werewolf? her mind wracked over the fantasy movies she had watched with her mother, especially those mythical creatures. ‘Was I dreaming? Do my eyes were playing tricks on me?’ Couldn’t believe what she just saw, a scream ought to rip from her throat, but she chokes in it and let out a pitchy squeak instead. She tried to cover her mouth with her hand, but it came too late and had the growling wolf already facing her, baring its fangs. As if the world stopped spinn
While she was busy eating her hot noodles when her phone suddenly vibrated. When she saw the unidentified caller's number flashing on her phone screen, she almost burned her tongue and spit the contents of her mouth back into the cup she was holding. With her brows deeply furrowed, she swipes up the jumping green icon on the screen with her knuckles, and pressing the button to turn on the loudspeaker. “Hello...... ?” The other line spoke first, hesitantly. It was a man. Rachel didn’t answer right away and let the caller finished what he was about to say. “Is this Rachel Dockham?” With wide eyes, she put down the cup to the coffee table and snatched her phone, placing it against her ear. “Yes, speaking.” “Uhm, this is from Cloud-Nine Coffee shop, and you are hired.” The caller said without any other preamble that left Rachel speechless on her seat, her mouth hanging wide open. Her mind currently digesting the good news. “Hello? Miss Dockham? Are you still there?” said from t
The city of Bunga is suddenly teeming with life. The high skyscrapers above her enthralled Rachel, so she didn’t notice the middle-aged women coming her way. She was holding a tote bag full of groceries, with a piece of French bread protruding from it. She was so engrossed in her phone conversation that she didn't see her as well and accidently bumped into her shoulder. She almost drops the groceries, but Rachel has quick reflexes and catches the tote before its contents could roll down the road. “Hey, watch out!” She sneered at her. With wide eyes, Rachel bowed and apologized to the woman. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” person with whom she was speaking on the phone. She even overheard some of their conversation as she walked past her. “There’s some dumb bitch who bump into me. Goodness, Robert! The sun is already out, and yet you are still in bed? How was Cassy?” Rachel frowns as she glances at the woman after being branded a bitch. She wanted to chase the woman down and make her
Stacey gaped at Dylan, swiping both her palms across her body to emphasize her overall appearance, slurring with her words, “What? I’m sultry, beautiful, and young! Any guy would die just to have me. Dylan, on the other hand, was no longer amused by it. Instead, he pinned her with a hard stare and a loud sigh of disappointment, calling the girl with her real name. “Stacy.” The girl abruptly stood stiffly, aware that Dylan was now taking a deadly serious tone. It was like all the alcohol fled from her system. “Yeah, right. I’m sorry.” She mumbles, lowering her head. Felling kind of disappointed with herself as well. “I’m cutting your allowance.” After a moment of self-deliberation, Dylan came to a decision on how he would discipline his adopted daughter for her delinquent behavior. “No buts. That’s final.” “Dy,” her voice suddenly softens, knowing that she couldn't alter his decision, “I can’t wait till I’m eighteen.” “Yeah? Still two years from now, potato.” He scoffed
Dylan wiped his palm over his face and heaved out a deep sigh. There’s still a lot of things that are needed to be done in his works. There were documents that needed to be signed, as well as proposals that required his attention. He took his phone from the desk and scrolled through the latest news for a while until eventually coming across one in which hundreds of refugees had arrived in their states seeking asylum after the war erupted in their home country. A recorded feed showed on the news, covering the people boarding on a military aircraft, but what draws his attention to the news broadcast was when the camera pans over a familiar woman who was following the stretcher and carrying a body bag on top of it, which he recognized from a previous encounter on the alley. She seemed to be crying. Her face was somewhat pixelated on the screen for being Zoomed in on the camera, but Dylan knew her. He skimmed the lines below the headlines. According to the report, an elderly woman di
Rachel remembered his physique. Though she hadn't seen his face, Yurielle knew that it was him. The man that turned into a wolf. Out from the dim illumination, she could see the gleaming pair of his sharp canine, the tip of his bloodied razor claws. It was real, the beast she thought was a figment of her imagination was real, and she didn’t just see things out of hunger. Slowly, he strode closer to her. Her heart pounded hard on her chest in fear at the thought that this would be the last moment of her life. That she will die in the hands of a beast, and no one will ever know that a beast murdered her. Her lungs were stinging from a sudden intake of breath. Her chest constricted as her heart pounded like an impact drill against her rib cage. Cold sweat broke from the side of her head as she stared at the man that came out directly from her nightmare. “Please don’t kill me,” she cowered, prompting her elbows to push her upper body upright, kicking her legs in an attempt to drag
Discovering her strengths and weaknesses, as well as her flaws, and coming to terms with who she is. “If there is anything else you want to know about her, please let me know.” Mr. Kahl prompted, taking him out of his bubble of thoughts about his beautiful mate. “No, that is all there is to it.” “Okay, bye—” Dylan clicks the end button of his phone and focuses his gaze on the road stretching ahead of him while his mind is consumed by his mate. She was well aware of who he was. She had seen him kill those men who assaulted her. She might have been terrified of him at first glance, but he never caught a glimpse of the rejection in her eyes. Dylan knew that she was also feeling the same way to him. The way her breath caught in her throat when she looked at him, and the way her heart raced wildly inside her chest when he drew her closer to him. The melodious drumbeat of her heart is like a song that has become stuck in his head, and he can't seem to get enough of listening to it.
Rachel gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles pale against the wood. “She wasn’t alone.”Dylan raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp. “You mean at the execution?”Rachel nodded slowly. “Someone was there. A man. Tall. Cloaked in gold and black. He stood behind the crowd. He never moved. Just… watched.”Nyra leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “The Executioner?”“No,” Rachel said firmly. “She didn’t fear him. She looked right at him. Not with fear. With *recognition*. She *knew* him. Right before the flames reached her, she found him in the crowd.”“What did she say?” Dylan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.Rachel's throat tightened, but she forced the words out. “She whispered… ‘You were supposed to protect me.’”Dylan’s jaw clenched, and his fists tightened at his sides. “Who the hell was he?”“I don’t know,” Rachel said, voice quiet. “But I’ve seen his eyes before. Not in the memory. Recently.”Nyra froze. “Describe them.”Rachel met her gaze, the image burned into her mind.
“You said she touched you?” Dylan asked, crouching in front of Stacy, his voice low but urgent.Stacy sat on the penthouse couch, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes wide. “I didn’t even see her. I just… felt something. Cold. Like something brushed the back of my neck.”Rachel sat beside her, gripping her hand. “You’re sure it wasn’t your imagination?”“She whispered something,” Stacy said. “I don’t know what it was, but I felt it inside my head.”Dylan turned to Nyra. “Can she mark someone mentally?”Nyra frowned. “Not in the way a wolf marks. But she can tether her presence to a person’s aura.”Rachel blinked. “So she’s… what? Watching her?”Nyra hesitated. “Or waiting.”Dylan stood. “I need to know what she did. Scan her.”Stacy recoiled. “Scan me? What—like magic MRI?”Nyra crouched slowly. “Close enough. I won’t hurt you.”Stacy looked at Rachel.Rachel nodded. “It’s okay.”Nyra reached forward, placing two fingers against Stacy’s temple. Her eyes fluttered shut. A soft silver gl
The halls were quiet. Too quiet. Dylan moved through them fast, his black coat billowing behind him. Nyra flanked his left, her palm already glowing faintly with silver runes. A silent alert had come from one of Dylan’s hidden security failsafes—one he’d embedded into Stacy’s school locker months ago without telling her. “Cameras went dead five minutes ago,” he said. “Magical interference,” Nyra replied. “She’s masking herself.” “I can still smell her.” They turned the final corner—and stopped cold. The woman in crimson stood at the end of the hallway, heels clicking slowly on the tile, her hair coiled high, her lips painted blood. She was alone. Or so it seemed. Dylan’s jaw clenched. “Where’s Stacy?” The woman smiled. “Safe.” “You don’t get to be near her.” “You brought her into this,” she replied. “Not me.” Nyra stepped forward. “You’ve crossed a line.” The woman’s smile widened. “Have I? Or has she?” Her gaze turned sharper. “The girl who wears Elira’s
Stacy paced the length of her room, the old journal clutched in her hands. Her fingers trembled as she flipped back to the first page—the one with the name she still couldn’t believe was real. *Elira.* The woman Rachel was supposed to be. The woman who once wrote: *“If the wolf finds me again, I’ll destroy him.”* Her throat tightened. Dylan wasn’t just hiding the truth about Rachel—he was hiding something from *her*, too. Something from before she ever came into his life. With a sharp breath, she marched toward the door. Rachel sat on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest. The memory of her own reflection smiling back at her haunted her like a shadow she couldn’t shake. She’d checked the mirror three more times since, and every time, the face staring back was hers. And yet… not. Nyra sat cross-legged on the floor, humming softly as she drew symbols in chalk on the marble. Dylan paced by the window. When Stacy walked in holding the journal, all three of them t
“You’re sure it’s her?” Dylan asked. Nyra didn’t blink. “I felt her magic. She’s here. In Bunga.” Rachel stepped forward. “You said she’s not alone. Who’s with her?” Nyra looked between them. “Someone older. Stronger.” “Stronger than her?” Dylan asked. Nyra nodded. “He carries the scent of ancient blood. Something that shouldn’t exist.” Rachel swallowed. “Do they want me?” Nyra’s eyes narrowed. “They want to *awaken* you.” “I thought I was already awakening,” Rachel said. “Not fully,” Nyra replied. “They want to force it.” “What happens if they do?” Dylan asked. Nyra looked at Rachel. “She loses control.” --- The woman in crimson kneeled before a man cloaked in shadow. His eyes were molten gold, face hidden beneath a hood. “She’s resisting,” she said. “She won’t for long.” “She’s bonded to the wolf.” “I know.” “Should we separate them?” The man smiled. “No. Let him watch her become something he can’t control.” --- Rachel paced. “So what do I do
Stacy crept around the side of the rusted warehouse, hoodie up, breath shallow. The tracking app on her phone blinked steadily. Dylan was inside. But why? He told her this place had been shut down. She slid closer, boots crunching lightly on gravel, and pressed herself against the side door. Faint voices filtered through the metal. She tilted her head. “Is it confirmed?” a deep voice said. “Not yet,” came Dylan’s voice. “But she’s showing signs.” Stacy frowned. “You’re sure she’s the one?” “Yes,” Dylan replied. “The woman in crimson marked her.” Stacy’s eyes narrowed. Rachel? They were talking about Rachel. “She’s dangerous, Dylan,” the other man said. “She’s not,” Dylan shot back. “She’s Elira’s blood.” Stacy gasped. Elira? She backed away quietly, but her elbow brushed against a hanging chain. It clanked loudly. Inside, the voices went silent. Dylan’s voice rose. “Someone’s outside.” Panic surged. Stacy bolted, running for the tree line. A second
“You’re telling me I’m some kind of magical bloodline?” Rachel asked, pacing the room in a circle, her voice rising. “That I’m… Elira?” Dylan stood at the center of the room, shirtless, bruised from the earlier impact. “I didn’t know,” he said evenly. “I swear.” “You didn’t *know*?” She spun on him. “You’ve been alive for centuries, Dylan! You know things no one else does. You can’t tell me that name means nothing.” “I told you,” he said, jaw tight, “Elira is a name from the old world. The Moon’s chosen. A line of women who could bind the supernatural with just a whisper. But they were wiped out. Hunted.” Rachel’s eyes widened. “Hunted… why?” “They were too powerful. The Council saw them as a threat. Some say they sided with the darkness. Others believe they were protectors. Either way, both sides feared them.” “And you never thought—never *felt*—that maybe I was—” “No,” he said, stepping forward. “When I met you, all I felt was the mate bond. That’s it.” She stared at
Rachel stood by the tall glass window of Dylan’s penthouse, arms wrapped around herself as she stared down at the glittering lights of Bunga City. The night buzzed below like an unspoken warning. But all she could think about was the woman in crimson—the way she looked at her, the chill in her words.“You smell… interesting.”Even now, the memory sent goosebumps racing across her arms. It wasn’t just what she said. It was how she said it. As if Rachel wasn’t a person, but prey. Something to be claimed… or consumed.The sound of Dylan’s voice broke her thoughts. He was on the phone in the next room, his tone clipped, measured. Protective. Since bringing her back, he hadn’t let her out of his sight.“No. I don’t care if the Council demands an answer,” he growled. “If they want a report, they can come to me directly. I’m not leaving her unguarded.”A pause.“Triple the security. I want one team on the perimeter, one in the shadows, and a third monitoring every magical ripple within a ten
Dylan knew something was wrong the moment his phone buzzed in his pocket. He had just stepped out of a shareholder video call when the device vibrated against his thigh with a ping that set his instincts on high alert. He pulled it out and saw a message—not from Rachel, not from Grace, and not from any of his staff. It was from one of his private surveillance agents positioned near the coffee shop.**“Unidentified female—possible supernatural. Engaged brief interaction with subject Dockham. Leaving scene now.”**Dylan’s jaw locked.It had only been a day.A single day since Rachel accepted him.And already, something—or someone—had caught her scent.He didn't hesitate. He called the underground garage, ordered the car, and was out of the building in less than two minutes.---At the café, Rachel tried to shake off the cold dread left in the woman’s wake, but it clung to her skin like the chill of a ghost's breath. She wiped her damp palms on her apron and tried to resume her task, but