The full moon illuminated the night, casting an eerie glow over the hospital's surroundings. Mario's men patrolled the perimeter, their eyes darting at every shadow, fully expecting an assault from Damon. Yet, the true threat lurking in the darkness was far beyond their imagination.Inside, the tension was palpable. Three men stormed into the elevator, ascending swiftly to the top floor where Mario’s ward was located. Their faces were pale, their breaths ragged, and their hands fidgeting with their weapons.When they reached Mario's room, they pushed the door open with urgency."Boss," one of the men blurted, his voice trembling, "it appears we’ve been compromised. You need to evacuate immediately."Mario, calm yet intrigued, shifted his gaze toward them. "Compromised? How?"The man hesitated, his fear evident. "We’ve found 50 dead bodies scattered around the perimeter—all of them our men. Whoever did this… they’re a ghost."Mario’s eyes widened briefly in shock, his composed demeano
The field stretched wide, the distant sound of flying birds occasionally breaking the peace. Anna stood with a gun in her hand, the weight of it unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Bonnie, standing a few feet away, observed her with a smile.“Hold it steady,” Bonnie instructed, adjusting Anna’s grip on the firearm. “And remember, aim down the sights, not at the entire target.”Anna squinted at the paper target ahead, trying her best to focus. She squeezed the trigger, and the shot rang out.It missed the target entirely.“Ugh,” Anna groaned, lowering the gun in frustration. “This is pointless. I’m never going to get the hang of this.”“You’re doing fine,” Bonnie reassured her, chuckling. “It’s your first day. You can’t expect to be a sharpshooter immediately.”Anna handed the gun back to Bonnie. “Maybe I’ll never need to be a sharpshooter. But if I do get good at this, the first person I’m shooting is Damon.”Bonnie burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the field. “If that’s the
Anna followed Bonnie into the grandiose building, her eyes scanning the polished marble floors, high ceilings, and the faint hum of business activity. The place resembled a bank but had an air of exclusivity that made her feel out of place.As they stepped inside, uniformed officers immediately greeted them with warm smiles and respectful bows. "Welcome, ma'am," one of them said, opening the door wider.Anna looked around, still utterly confused. "Bonnie, what are we doing here?" she whispered as they were escorted deeper into the building.Bonnie didn’t respond, only offering a mysterious smile that only served to irritate Anna further.Soon, they were led to a private office, its decor a blend of luxury and professionalism. A man in a sharp suit, clearly the General Manager, rose from behind a mahogany desk as they entered. His face lit up when he saw Bonnie."Ah, Miss Bonnie," he greeted, extending his hand. "I’ve been expecting you."Bonnie shook his hand, her usual confident deme
“Anna,” her father finally said, his voice as familiar and loathsome as she remembered. “It’s been a while.”“Why are you here?” she demanded, her voice rising. She turned to Damon, her eyes blazing. “What is he doing here? What kind of twisted game are you playing now?”Damon leaned back in his chair, his calm demeanor unshaken by her outburst. "Welcome to the family meeting, wifey. please sit down."“I’m not sitting down!” she snapped. “You owe me an explanation, Damon! Right now!”Her father chuckled softly, the sound grating on her nerves. “Still fiery, I see,” he said.“Shut up!” Anna shouted, her voice cracking as she turned back to him. “You don’t get to speak to me. Not after everything you’ve done.”The tension in the room was suffocating. Damon set his glass down and stood, his piercing gaze locking onto Anna’s.“This is not what you think,” he said, his tone low and firm.Anna scoffed, crossing her arms. “Oh, really? Then enlighten me, Damon. What the hell is this?”Her fat
The atmosphere was tense as Anna's family gathered in the room. Damon and Bonnie stood silently, observing the heated conversation between Anna, her sister, and their father.“You sold us to Mario Manzoni!” Anna accused, fury blazing in her eyes.Her sister nodded in agreement. "How could you do that to your own daughters?"Their father raised his hands defensively. "You don’t understand. I had no choice!""No choice?" Anna seethed. "That's your excuse for betraying your own blood?"Her father’s voice hardened. "You don’t know Mario like I do. He’s ruthless, and he's not going to stop until he gets what he wants. He'll kill you both if you insist on staying here." He turned to face Damon. "And he'll kill you too if you try to protect them."Damon simply smiled, his expression unreadable. He nodded subtly at Bonnie.Anna’s voice cut through the room. "Then maybe we should just offer you to him since you’re the one who owes him!"Before her father could respond, Bonnie stepped forward,
The water glowed under the late afternoon sun as Anna led Damon to the edge of the mansion's luxurious pool. Damon followed eagerly, curiosity lighting up his eyes."Do you want me to swim with you?" he asked, rubbing his palms together in excitement.Anna shook her head firmly. "No. I didn't bring you here to swim. I have questions, and I need answers."Damon chuckled softly. "The pool isn’t exactly the best place for an interrogation. How about your room? Or mine?" His gaze locked onto hers, mischievous yet intense."You're dangerous, Damon," Anna said, her voice steady but wary. "No woman is safe with you in a private room." She averted her eyes, feeling the magnetic pull of his presence even in the open air.Even at the pool, his power over her seems to be getting stronger. He's not trying to force his way with far, far from it. He's trying to infect her with his charms and so far it's working.Damon folded his arms, his smile still intact, he couldn't help but enjoy the whole thi
Anna's POV"I have to admit, I think I'm beginning to like Damon," I confessed, glancing at Bonnie to gauge her reaction as she sipped her wine.She smiled slyly. "Should I call that progress or a setback? And more importantly, what are you going to do about it?" Her eyes flickered between me and the scattered bar patrons, always on alert."I want to run away. Before it's too late," I said softly, taking another sip. The sweetness of the wine dulled the chaos swirling in my mind.Bonnie chuckled and placed a comforting hand over mine. "That's fear talking. You're scared you'll fall in love with him—and you don't believe any man is worthy of that, do you?"I nodded reluctantly. "Exactly. Which is why I have to run."Bonnie's expression turned thoughtful, as though weighing my words carefully."Anna, you can't run from Damon," she said firmly. "Kill that idea. At least for now.""Why not now?" I asked, my brows furrowing."Manzoni Clan," she reminded me. "They
"Who are you?" Anna demanded, her voice steady despite the fear creeping up in her spine.The man didn’t answer Anna’s question. His expression was cold and serious. Instead, he asked firmly, “Where is she? Where’s Bonnie?”Anna tried to step away, but he blocked her path swiftly. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me where she is.”Rose stood from her seat, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Anna, what’s going on? Do you know this guy?”“I have no idea who he is,” Anna replied, her voice steady despite the growing tension.Rose took a step closer, her tone sharp. “Hey, dumbass, take your hands off her.”The man’s expression darkened as he reached into his back pocket. A glint of metal caught their eyes just before he raised a pistol and fired a shot into the air.The deafening echo of the gunshot lingered in the air, and the bar erupted into chaos. People scrambled for cover, overturning tables and knocking over chairs in their desperate attempts to escape. Anna’s heart raced,
Anna's POV But his face was stone-serious, his eyes digging into mine, waiting for an answer I didn’t have.“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I managed, my voice a shaky whisper. My heart hammered, each thud ringing in my ears. What did he mean I smelled like an alpha? And a pack? The questions piled up, suffocating me with no answers in sight.He tilted his head, his brow creasing like my confusion threw him off. “You don’t know?” he asked, his tone softening, almost curious. “But you carry the scent. It’s unmistakable.”I backed up, my shoulders hitting the elevator wall. The cold metal steadied me, but my thoughts were chaos. That voice earlier, my eyes flashing red in the mirror, the sudden craving for meat despite years as a vegetarian—it was all unraveling, and this man’s words were tugging at threads I didn’t want to pull.“I’m not… I’m not part of any pack,” I said, my voice trembling. “I don’t even know what that means.”He stared at me,
Anna's POVI woke up to the softest sheets I’d ever felt in a very long time, the kind that makes you feel like you're floating in a cold swimming pool under a hot sun.But as my eyes fluttered open, confusion crashing over me with the speed of light. The last thing I remembered was the hospital—the sterile smell, the cold bed, the seizure that had ripped through me, leaving pain blooming in my stomach. Now, I was here, in a place so exquisite it didn’t make sense.The room was breathtaking. A massive bed decked in silky blue linens stretched beneath me, and the walls glowed a soft cream under the warm light of a crystal chandelier. A plush armchair sat in one corner, a sleek glass desk in another, and floor-to-ceiling windows framed a sprawling city skyline I couldn’t place. It was a hotel, maybe, but one so luxurious it felt unreal. How had I gone from a hospital bed to this?I sat up slowly, my breath catching as I pressed a hand to my stomach. I’d expec
Seven old women sat in a circle on the damp forest ground, their frail bodies bent like crooked branches. These were the elder witches, and they looked as worn as the earth beneath them. Their black gowns hung loose, the fabric torn at the hems and patched with mud. Wrinkles carved deep lines into their faces, and their gray hair stuck out in wild, matted clumps. Some had gaps where teeth once were; others had cloudy eyes that barely saw. Yet, their hands, though shaky, gripped small, rusty knives with purpose. Damon’s mother was one of them, her thin fingers clutching her blade tightly, her face pale under a tangle of silver hair.The meeting kicked off with a strange ceremony. The witches pushed themselves up, their old bones cracking like dry twigs, and raised their knives high. In their tattered gowns, they started chanting words no one else understood—harsh, foreign sounds that rolled off their tongues. Damon sat off to the side, legs crossed, watching them. Too much drama
Under a full moon, the forest stretched cold and silent, save for the distant howls of wolves and faint, eerie laughter that drifted through the trees. Damon pressed forward along a narrow path, Anna’s limp body slung across his shoulders. His red Lycan eyes glowed fierce in the dark, cutting through the shadows like a blade. Tall trees towered above, their thick branches choking out the moonlight, leaving only slivers to speckle the ground.Wild animals lurked nearby, drawn by the scent of Anna’s death. A wolf pack edged closer, their eyes glinting with hunger, until Damon let out a deep, rumbling growl. They bolted, tails low, and even the bolder creatures—bears, foxes—slunk back into the undergrowth. But as he reached a small clearing, Damon slowed. Ahead stood a threat no growl would scatter.Three werewolves blocked his way, their blue eyes glowing bright and unyielding. Guardians of the territory, they bristled with tension, claws flexing. Damon didn’t hesitate. He strode to
Tiger sat alone in the hospital’s technical office, his eyes fixed on the flickering CCTV footage displayed on the monitor before him. The small room felt cramped, packed with humming computers and cables that spilled across the desk. He’d been at it for hours, watching an endless stream of doctors and nurses passing through the hospital’s hallways on the big screen. A yawn escaped his lips as boredom settled in. Most of the faces were unfamiliar but expected—medical staff going about their routines. The only exception was Damon, who had stormed through earlier. Other than that, nothing seemed out of place.Still, Tiger wasn’t convinced. Anna’s death gnawed at him, and he needed answers. Pushing back from the desk, he stood and crossed the room to the door. He opened it and leaned out into the hallway. “Doctor,” he called.Moments later, the doctor who had first brought him into the technical office appeared, his white coat slightly wrinkled. “Yes?” he asked, stepping closer.Ti
The helicopter descended into a small clearing nestled deep within the Mexican tropical forest, its rotor blades chopping through the thick, humid air. The sound was a relentless whump-whump, sending gusts of wind that bowed the towering pines and scattered dry leaves in swirling patterns across the ground. A semicircle of mercenaries stood waiting. Six men, hardened by years of conflict, gripped their rifles with steady hands, barrels pointed slightly downward but ready to snap up at a moment’s notice. Dust kicked up by the chopper’s landing swirled around their boots as it settled with a soft jolt, the skids sinking slightly into the earth. No one seemed to come out from the helicopter. The mercenaries shifted uneasily, exchanging quick, wordless glances. Their leader, a burly man known simply as the boss, stepped forward. His scarred forehead twitched faintly as he squinted at the chopper’s dark windows. His heavy boots crunched against the dry ground, each step deliberate, h
The uninhabited forest of La Mosquitia in Mexico stretched out beneath a hot midday sun. The air hung thick with humidity, carrying the faint swamp of insects and the occasional cry of birds. High above the dense forest, a mercenary lay flat on his belly on top of a rugged mountain, his body pressed against the warm, hard rock. His eyes were locked on a pair of binoculars, scanning the horizon. He was the lookout, tasked with a single, pivotal role in the ambush about to unfold below.His face, toughened by years of mercenary living, reflected no emotion as he adjusted the binoculars. A deep voice had spoken through the walkie-talkie earlier, barking orders that still played in his mind: “Watch out for any sign of a Gulfstream G-159, a chopper. Target is Damon. Alert the others when you sight him. Do you copy?” “Yes, boss, I copy,” he’d replied, “No sign of any chopper yet. I’ll keep watching.” That had been over an hour ago. Now, as sweat formed on his forehead like morning de
A man in his early fifties stood at the imposing iron gates of Damon's mansion. His coat was slightly rumpled, and his hands fidgeted with the strap of a leather bag slung over his shoulder. Two security guards approached, their broad frames and stern expressions signaling that no one entered unvetted."Hands up," one of them ordered gruffly, his voice cutting through the stillness. The other guard stepped forward, patting down the visitor with practiced efficiency, searching for any trace of a weapon. Finding none, he nodded to his partner."He's clean," the second guard muttered.The first guard fixed the man with a hard stare. "Who are you?""I'm Doctor Francis," the man replied, his voice steady but laced with a hint of nerves. "I'm here to see Mr. Damon."The head of security, a towering figure with a scar running across his jaw, stepped closer. "Damon’s not around," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "But his sister might want to hear you out." He tur
Damon stood alone in the big compound of his mansion, the night air cool against his bare torso, dressed only in trousers, his shirt abandoned somewhere in the heat of his torment.Before him stood a magnificent golden lion statue, its jaws parted to release springs of water that splashed into a marble basin below. The constant flow shimmered under the moonlight, a wide contrast to the emptiness that gripped his heart.His eyes, filled with tears that refused to fall, were fixed on the statue, though his thoughts were elsewhere—lost in memories of Anna, in the promises he’d made, in the hollow ache of her death The sound of footsteps broke through his internal agonies, soft but steady, approaching from behind. He turned his head just enough to see Ghost, his sister, stepping into the faint glow cast by the mansion’s lanterns.“I’m sorry about Anna,” Ghost said, her voice thick with sympathy.Damon didn’t respond. His jaw tightened, and he turned his gaze back to the lion, unwilling