A Wolf's Cry

by Serenity Angel14

A perilous Immortal War. The sake of all mankind. The burdened waning soul of an Immortal warrior Lycaon prince. Everything rests in the hands of one mortal girl who wants only to live a normal life.

3. Chapter 1 Salvation

PLEASE NOTE: I have to ask for everyone to please have a little patience with me as I am currently between editors, (which are REALLY hard to find for me as they need the patience of a saint, the spelling and grammar skills of a university graduate, the honesty of a nun, and one whoppingly big sense of humour). So this means that this chapter has only been edited twice instead of the usual 4 times - which trust me, is really needed. I can only edit myself so many times otherwise the paragraphs ended up a lot more long winded than they start out.

So please have patience with me and excuse any spelling, grammar and minor plot errors you may come across; I am a really poor editor. However feel free to let me know if you find any errors that really stand out.

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Chapter 1 – Salvation

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Present Day

Deep within the silence of the dead of the night, far from civilisation and the blind callow eyes of the mortal humans, a silent black shadow stalked its prey. Crystalline dark blue eyes watched with dark predatory intent and focus as the predator focused on its helpless unsuspecting prey.

The helpless and completely unaware rabbit sniffed the damp forest earth in search of food.

The rains had been generous this year, the grass was lush and green and the rabbits were fat, juicy and plenty. No creature was likely to starve this season, not that his kind would ever starve, not when they no longer depended on the nature's hunt as they once had, long ago. No, these current times were all about convenience and as little effort as possible, thanks to the ingenuity and unlimited potential and imagination of the mortal human race that he and his own protected from the evil that lurked in the shadows of the night. One phone call and some money and his own would have all the food they would ever need.

It had for so long amazed – and somewhat amused – him that a race with such inventiveness and a thriving thirst for knowledge were so, by their own fear-driven will, blind to the evils that lurked in their world that they had long ago shrugged off as figments of the imaginations and myths. A fear-driven relentless denial that made them such easy prey for the Damned; deep down the mortal race did remember, did see, what lay beneath the icing that was their world, but it was their refusal to believe that there was something bigger, stronger, than them left in the world. That were was something to fear in the dark, despite their delusional denials.

Regardless of their selective blindness, they had created a world of convenient comforts for themselves and the Immortal races. But even though in many ways, modern times were good for his kind, Darien longed desperately for the days of old when his soul wasn't so heavily burdened, when his mind wasn't weighed down with the insanity and darkness that was so close to claiming him, one of the strongest and eldest of their kind.

He hungered – as did all unmated Immortal kind – so for the blood and flesh of mortal kind that was the greatest temptation and gravest taboo for his kind. The tasting of the flesh of mortals, draining a mortal life away, came with the highest of prices, which most believed was the damnation of the soul – that was for those who believed that Immortals possessed souls to begin with. With that first kill and taste of a mortal's death comes the irreversible release of the unquenchable maddening thirst that every Immortal carried within. With the taste of death the man within lost his inner battle and his beast consumed him forever, devouring all trace of the humanity within.

Muscles rippled silently beneath raven black pelt that shimmered with the light of the silvery pale moon above as he tensed, ready to pounce on his prey. There was no better feeling he knew than the thrill of the hunt, the scent of fear filling his nose and fresh blood from still warm pray spilling into his muzzle. Although rabbits were a supply of food and gave a somewhat – if only brief – respite from the need to hunt – preferably much larger prey – it did nothing to soothe the restlessness and the untamed wildness of the beast that he carried within him.

In the days of old his kind had hunted much larger game. Deer, bear, mountain lion, even water buffalo, all of which had been plentiful; that was before the human race had conquered the earth like a plague. In the days of old the hunt had done more to soothe his restlessness and his beast, but now nothing seemed to give him any lasting sense of peace or contentment.

Darien had grown too wary of life. He had lived long and in recent years his reasons for continuing on, without the comfort of a Wolfmate, were fleeting. He lived to protect his people, and the mortals, from the Damned but it seemed such a futile effort, growing more so with each passing year. The number of Lycaon females and Lycaon young born was decreasing with every passing year – as it had been increasingly so for centuries – more and more of the Immortals were embracing the curse and becoming the Damned.

If it kept going as it was, then mankind would be left alone against the worst plague the earth would ever know, the Damned, whose number grew with each passing year. With each Immortal that became a Damned meant one more number to the Damned and one less of the protecting Immortal kind.

Maybe the time of the Immortal races were coming to an end.

At the thought, which never failed to stir such impotent rage within him, Darien pounced, the small helpless creature standing no chance against his superhuman strength, speed, agility and senses that rivalled all other predators of nature. There was only one other creature on the planet that could match the capabilities of his kind and that was not the mortals but an ancient race, just like his, the vampiric race known as the Anami.

As warm blood touched his tongue, the primitive part of him – his beast that grew stronger every day as his control grew weaker like the ocean's constant battering against the cliffs that continued to crumble with each wave – burned and screamed for much more satisfying prey.

For human pray.

But the laws were absolute. No hunting mortals; the only exception was if the kill was approved by the High Council made up of both Immortal races, created after the war had ended. The only sanctioned kills were those who were a threat to their people and their way of life. Most sanctioned kills were those of the two races who had stopped fighting the darkness they all carried within and had surrendered to it, to the bloodlust. Once an Immortal tasted human blood, it was an unquenchable and undeniable addiction; there was no coming back from that. They became the Damned that constantly hungered for fresh human blood. The young Damned were like wild savage animals, it was only after centuries that they recover some semblance of intelligent creatures, of their previous selves in that they talked and showed some semblance of control.

There was only one salvation for the Immortals; their destined mate, the one born to soothe the Beast and the bloodlust within, and bring hope and light into their dark lives, driving back the darkness and taming the beast within. But with females of both Immortal races becoming fewer and fewer in number, it was unlikely that Darien would ever find his true wolfmate, his salvation. Such was the truth for so many of the remaining Immortals struggling to remain strong against their beast and hunger.

Sadly, it was not as it was written in mortal legends and stories; both Lycaon and Anami kind alike weren't created or "turned" from mortal kind, they were born of their own kind. Every mortal throughout their history that had tried to be turned had died a short agonising death within a day of being infected.

It was whispered among the Immortal Kind that the few offspring being born, especially females, was a punishment from the Moon Goddess, the mother of the two Immortal races of the night. It was said that with the mortals ruling the day, the children of the Goddess, of the moon, would have the night. The night was their world, the darkness kept their secrets and for a short time allowed them to run free and wild as they had once done before the human race had so completely conquered the world.

And soon the mortals would have the night also, as the two Immortal races were rapidly fading into extinction and with hope waning, more and more Immortals were turning to the ways of the Damned and more and more of them were dying, most taking their own lives rather than become that which they hunted.

Darien looked up at the moon with deep tormenting sadness that ran right down into him, possessing his darkening encumbered soul, the blood from the kill he still held in his mouth ran down his thickly furred muzzle.

Darien closed his eyes and silently prayed to the Moon Goddess to help them, for soon he feared that it would be too late for either of her sired races, for even he had long run out of reasons to hope.

---

The sun was threatening the night sky by the time Darien returned to his manor from his hunt. After he had satisfied his beast's hunger for still-warm raw flesh with his kill – two plump rabbits – Darien had then ventured into the city to hunt something different, something far larger and far more deadly.

He had killed no less than four Damned this night, three fallen Lycaons and a fallen Anami, but he had not been in time to save two mortal women the Damned had hunted. One mortal woman had been killed by the group of three Lycaon Damned who had been feasting upon her still warm flesh and the lone fallen Anami Damned had drained the second of her life's blood.

After he had set fire to the bodies of the Damned to hide the evidence of their existence, Darien had then seen to the bodies of the two women; even though it was easier to dispose of the bodies by means that they would never be discovered, he respected the mortal's rituals for their dead. Instead of destroying the bodies, Darien chose instead to hide their true cause of death and leave them somewhere they would likely to eventually be discovered – mostly after the elements and nature had made it impossible for their true cause of death to be determined.

The half-eaten body of the first woman Darien had placed deep in the forests, off a hiking trail that wouldn't likely to be used until the weather changed. When she was finally found, the condition of her body would be attributed to the elements and wild animals. He was regretful that he was forced to prolong the suffering of the mortal woman's loved ones, but she would eventually be found and lain to rest.

And the second, with whispered words of regret, Darien had slit her throat and thrown her into the flowing stream that ran through the park near the University campus. It would not be long before her body was discovered.

It surprised him – and gave him a dying ember of hope – that an innocent mortal's death still had some effect on him. It was evidence that there may still be enough of him left – despite the growing strength of the feral beast within him – that was saddened and angered by the loss of life, especially that of delicate mortal women who'd been helpless to defend themselves against the maliciousness of the stronger, faster, Immortal Damned.

In his wolf form, Darien silently and lithely jumped the story-high solid white stone wall that surrounded the manor – his home and sanctuary. The one place he did not have to constantly have to guard himself.

His wolf form was that of a sheer black wolf that was easily six time the size of the largest wolf of nature. There was no other colour that detectable in his pelt, but in the light of the sun his pelt gave off a slight bluish tint that otherwise went unnoticed. His eyes, even though their shape changed into the more circular shape of the wolf, his natural colour remained, a deep dark blue.

The eyes of his mother.

There was a part of him that yearned for the lush green damp earth of the land he had been born upon, the land now called by the name England. Once, long ago it had been known by another name, a name which had long been forgotten by the mortals.

It had been centuries though, since he had called the Island land home, the place from which his parents ruled all of the Lycaon kind. A part of him had been sorry to leave, so many centuries before, but the time had come in which his beast had been unable to be leashed by his father's right of rule. Darien had been born to be an Alpha, a king, and it was common knowledge that two Alphas could not remain under the same roof – not even family – for long before the compulsion to fight to establish utter dominance over the other overruled the bonds of blood.

And so Darien had left for the new world in which he had brought together a pack to call his own.

His parents had understood, after all it was the way of their kind. They hadn't been thrilled when, a century later, his much younger sister – his only sibling – had decided to follow him, to join his pack, but she had done so for two reasons.

Firstly, his sister Rei loved her brother and wanted some freedom of her own from their royal parents, and secondly, one of Darien's most trusted and skilled brother's in arms – whom of which had been given the title as his generals, his Betas – had claimed the Lycaon princess as his wolfmate.

Jadeite had been reluctant to leave his Alpha, friend and brother, for the sake of life in the royal court, but for her he would have. Fortunately, Rei had not asked it of him, instead she had gone with him to a new life away from the Lycaon Royal Court.

Darien's closest and most trusted friends and brothers were his Betas, his seconds in command so to speak. In the beginning, there had been four in his inner must trusted circle, Jadeite – Rei's wolfmate – Nephlite, Zoicite and Malachite.

Now only three remained as Malachite had, centuries before, become to close to losing control of his beast, the risk of him falling and becoming a Damned had been great. He had given up any and all hope that he would find his wolfmate in time to save his soul. Rather than fall to his beast and become one of the Damned which they hunted, Malachite had instead taken on an impossible mission, a suicide mission, from which he had never returned. He had chosen an honourable death rather than betray and endanger his brothers, his Alpha and his pack.

His name was remembered with reverence and honour. Malachite had served his Alpha, his pack and his kind with unwavering loyalty and honour. Many a Damned had fallen by his skilled hand before his death.

There were two things Darien remembered most clearly about his former first Beta. The first was that Malachite had been his most trusted and closest friend and confidant, serving him with brotherly love and unwavering loyalty, without question. He had protected and served his pack and his Alpha, his family with all his might and valour. And the second was his wolf form. Malachite had been the only Lycaon Darien had ever known in all his existence whose wolf form had had a pelt of pure snow white, without a single blemish. In the snow, the wolf had been completely invisible, except for his dark eyes – eyes that had been almost black against the sheer white of his pelt.

Malachite had been his closest brother, trusted like no other. Malachite had known him better than he had known himself, he had never been able to fool or lie to Malachite and no one had felt Malachite's loss greater than Darien had. There were still days that Darien mourned his honoured lost brother. It was mostly for Malachite and the sacrifice he had made in his end that had kept Darien going for so long.

Darien forced his thoughts away from his lost Beta, his brother. He made sure to remember his brother throughout the eternity of time, but it still hurt him so much to linger too long on those memories. His loss was still as strong in Darien today as it was in year he had disappeared to go to his honourable death.

Jadeite, Nephlite and Zoicite everyday endeavoured to be just like their fallen brother had been, to be worthy of his example.

After Malachite's disappearance, Darien had named Jadeite Malachite's successor as his first Beta. Jadeite was his brother-in-law, as his sister had married Jadeite only a month after they had realised that they were mates. As it usually went in the Lycaon world, that had been taking it slow.

Jadeite was just as loyal and dedicated in his duty and to his Alpha as Malachite had been, but despite how hard he tried, Jadeite just couldn't be as serious and business-like fulltime as Malachite had been. When he had to be serious and focused, Jadeite was the very shadow of Malachite, but when he didn't need to be, Jadeite was funny and lively. He was happy; he had every reason to be. He was the only one of the Beta's – and Alpha – who had found his wolfmate.

Jadeite had hair that was as fiery red as his wife's temper. Strangely he had been born with rich blond hair, but had changed over the centuries until it had become a vibrant fiery red; some said that the blood of his kills had stained his hair so many times that the Goddess had surrendered and willed it red rather than persist in keeping the blond he had been born with.

Immortals had a lot of time to fill, and it amused Darien that in-spite of all the differences between the mortals and the Immortals, there were still so many similarities between them. Immortals were still people.

Jadeite had kept his baby blue eyes that belonged rightfully to as blond man though. Too much time had since passed that Darien couldn't remember if the look had once looked strange to him or not.

Jadeite was tall, not as bulkily or as broad in the shoulders as Darien himself or Nephlite, but he was broader across the shoulders than Zoicite whose figure was the tall and slimmest of all. Jadeite's wolf form was the same shade as his hair, fiery red on his back, head, tail and down his sides to his hock – the elbow of the wolf form. The rest of his pelt was white from his belly and flank to his paws, to his chest and up to the underside of his jaw, in the true wolf fashion. His colour was strongest in wolf form around his eyes, where the shade darkened to almost a blazing crimson brown.

Nephlite was his second Beta, and almost as serious and grave as Malachite had been. He was the closer of the two unmated Beta's to falling into Damnation. There hadn't been joy in his friend since that fleeting moment when he had heard the news that Jadeite had found his mate in the Lycaon Princess. He was a fierce warrior; there was none other than Darien himself who was better with a blade or at physical combat. He had forest green eyes that were like jade in the moonlight, dark and deep. His hair, that he kept long, easily reaching the square of his back, was deep forest brown, a fitting match to his forest green eyes. Nephlite's wolf form was that a forest brown wolf, dark and easily camouflaged in the forest as there was not a trace of white on his pelt to be seen. The only white his wolf form had was the whites of his jade green eyes.

And Zoicite, the youngest of the four of them, still had a trace of hope for his mate within him. There was still a spark of life left within him. He was able to smile once in a while and he required the respite of the hunt only slightly more than half that the rest of them did. He was the one of them that talked the most, who still whined about life from time to time, and still brought a new joke into the walls of the manor every now and then.

None of them minded though, as these days it was uplifting, encouraging, that the youngest of them still wanted to live the life he had. Zoicite had at least a few more centuries before he reached the point of despair that the rest of them lingered further and further within.

Zoicite had long pale blonde hair – only an inch or two shorter than Nephlite's – that was usually tied back in a ponytail at the base of his neck, that when he was in his wolf form made him strongly resemble an Australian Dingo, especially since his belly, leg, paw and the underside of his tail were pure white.

Of course Zoicite was teased and taunted frequently about the resemblance. As of late – in the last few decades – the jokes had taken on the theme of eating stolen babies. No one meant any disrespect to the mother in the Australian outback who had lost a child, but boys would be boys. Immortal kind were hardly any different.

Darien was grateful for his Betas, and wasn't blind to the fact that Nephlite especially was holding on mainly because he didn't want to let Darien down. Jadeite and Zoicite did what they could to keep both his and Nephlite's hopes up, but it had long been a futile effort.

With a heavy, burdened sigh, Darien looked up at his manor. The house was his by the laws of both the Immortal and mortal worlds. This was his land, his territory, and none could dispute the fact. The manor was dark and old by mortal standards, but its upkeep was minimally consistent and inside and outside it looked as it did when it was first built; only the Immortals knew that he was the one who'd built it over five hundred years ago. The mortals believed that it had been his ancestor who had done so.

The manor stood four stories high, with two levels of basement, and easily covered three thousand feet, which made it roomy enough for his pack. He of course had the master bedroom on the top floor with the large balcony that overlooked the surrounding forests and mountains. The manor rested on flat land by a cliff that was a sheer drop of one hundred feet. The wall that surrounded the manor had not been run across the cliff face as his kind were Immortal, most Immortals would survival the fall.

In fact, some of his pack – mostly the younger males – enjoyed the thrill of running down it in their wolf forms. There was a deep river beneath that cushioned their fall; a mortal attempting the feet would surely fall to their death or break their bodies on the surface of the water and drowned.

He and his pack had solitude and isolation here, no mortals came here unless they were beckoned, or the occasionally lost.

This was home, this was where he found what little peace there was left for him in this world and this is where his pack resided. He fought for them, they were his family, his pack, and he took his responsibility as Alpha as seriously as all else. It was his responsibility to keep them safe, to assure they had food to eat and a shelter over their heads, and it was his responsibility to keep order by any means necessary.

Lycaon Kind had behaviour traits exactly as that of their mortal counterparts. Males and females alike were competitive, territorial and often aggressive. It was the Alpha's job to maintain leadership and control, and that was accomplished by fear, respect and clearly established dominance. But his kind were more than aggressive fighting animals, like the mortal wolf, they were loyal to no end to each other, they shared everything they had and took care of their mates, young and elderly. Family, the pack, was the most important thing. Undying loyalty to one's mate, a sense of community embedded into their very cores and an unmatchable intuition. They loved their freedom and understood that that freedom came with responsibility and that was no truer than it was for the Alpha.

They were Lycaon, half wolf, half human; although there was the occasional "dispute", they lived in harmony, they lived together. The loyalty to one's pack, and mate, was unbreakable and could survive the greatest, darkest, trials.

Life and loyalty to the pack and to one's mate, until either death or Damnation – then nothing mattered but one's own survival and hunger.

Darien shook his head to free himself of his roaming thoughts, and reached deep within him for what his people called the "life magic". Calling it to the surface, Darien felt a flicker of a moment in which warmth enwrapped him for but a heartbeat, it felt like being submerged in warm water, he stood upright in his naked human form.

The magic that allowed them to change did not extend to clothing or any other accessory worn. This was one of the reasons why modesty wasn't so important to his race but at times it did cause a problem or two. Most of the time those problems did not include the cold as Immortal kind were able to maintain their body temperature, unless of course the temperatures were extreme.

Maybe if he was naked in the middle of a snow storm on the southern icecaps for a day, the cold would affect him.

Darien was the only one of his pack that hunted alone – although maybe that was because he had ordered it so. Sometimes he would take one of his Beta's with him, but otherwise, unless there was a reason not too, he hunted alone.

He did not really care anymore if he didn't come back, but he sure as hell cared if another of his pack didn't.

Darien sighed deeply, tolerantly, but did not turn as he sensed the air shift behind him. He knew when his own approached and quickly acted to leash his beast against the urge to attack the being who had approached him unannounced from behind.

"The beast in you is sliding deeper into shadow." His younger sister Rei said sadly, knowingly, as she stepped out of the shadow of the wall behind him and threw him a pair of his black pants. Modesty may not have been important but no sibling wished to see all which one's mate did.

"I can sense it."

"Rei, I'm-."

"Don't say you're fine!" Rei snapped warningly, concern lacing her tone, diluting her anger just a little. "By the goddess, don't you dare lie to me!"

Darien sighed once again, this time for patience as he slid into the pants, pulling them up before he turned around to face his sister.

Like him, Rei had midnight black hair, blue eyes and tanned skin – that somehow still looked pale in the sunlight – and had a tempter and stubborn will that could strike fear into the hearts of the gods themselves, but that's where their resemblance ended in most ways.

Rei's long midnight black hair – that had the slightest tint of red streaks through it when she was in the sunlight – ran down her back to brush her backside, and her eyes were blue in truth but they held her tempter and her spirit that almost made them look red like burning rubies. She was a full head shorter than him and was delicate in a way that only a female and a princess could be.

In her wolf form, which was two full sizes smaller than Darien's own because she was female, was a mixture of dark fiery red, black and dark creamy brown. In the sunlight, Rei's pelt was a magnificent layer of shimmering dark golden and red.

Rei had had the rare gift of finding her mate long before her beast had gained sway over her, so she did not know what it was to struggle with the wild untamed beast within. She was as stubborn as the day was long, and always got her way, whether it was from their parents, her mate Jadeite and Darien himself.

Rei also had a gift for seeing things others did not, knowing what others could not. She was not psychic, but her intuition was stronger than that of any other Darien had ever known, and he had known many in his long centuries. He had never been able to fool her or hide anything from her, at least not for very long.

It was only his rivalling force of will and stubborn streak that kept her from knowing every secret Darien had ever had.

At Darien's silence to her outburst, Rei visibly softened, becoming as serious and as sad as one slipping into death. "You shouldn't be hunting alone. Not with how close to losing control you are. One drop of human lifeblood or one piece of human flesh and you are gone forever brother. The pack needs you too much for you to keep taking these foolish risks!"

Darien suppressed a warning growl even though they both knew he would never harm her. No Lycaon male would ever harm a female, Immortal or not. They were too precious, too cherished, which was why even the strongest, fiercest males of the Lycaon kind were ruled by their females, whether she was his mate or not.

Many a time, Darien had seen his own father, the King and Supreme Alpha of the Immortal Lycaon kind, willingly bow to his mother's slightest whim, maybe it was because of her immovable will and strength, but Darien was willing to bet that it was because he loved her so much, even after three millennia.

Rei was every bit as strong and as stubborn as their mother, but she was also just as loving, caring, overprotective and she worried constantly about those she cared about.

Darien knew that Rei saw it as her duty, her place as his loving sister, to care for him as their mother had, as she cared and saw to her mate as a loving wife. She wanted to assure that he remembered that he was loved and worried about, so that he may be stronger in his fight against his beast.

Darien looked into her spitfire eyes with strength and authority in his own, and he answered her in a firm tone, "You know as well as any other, that I would never do anything to endanger the pack or you."

Rei closed her eyes, bowed her head and shook it back and forth in a solemn disbelieving gesture. "I sense your weariness as clearly as I sense your raging beast that draws evermore closer and closer to the surface. You need to hold on so your mate can find you."

Darien knew his expression became downright sceptical but he could do nothing about it. "You know as well as I that I have no mate to come. I will die by my own hand, and the time is coming sister. You need to cease your belief that there is hope for me. The best you can hope for me is a quick death without causality."

Fierce will and fury flashed like a solar flash in the sparking eyes of his sister. Her fists clenched tightly and her teeth snapped together as she took a defiant step forward and glared sternly up into his eyes.

Darien waited patiently for her reaction, not concerned by whatever was to come. He was one of the few that did not fear his sister's fury, especially when it was centred on something he could not change. He was going to fall to his beast soon enough, he could no sooner stop the sun from rising; he had already accepted that he would not last the decade, much less the century.

He would be fortunate to last the year.

"If you will not remain strong for me or the pack." Rei growled through her teeth, fire in her fiery eyes. For too long she had been watching him draw closer to Damnation and she feared greatly that she and the pack would not have Darien as their Alpha for too much longer.

As much as Rei loved and believed in her mate, she did not want to see him as Alpha. As the mate of the Lycaon Princess, and Darien's second in command, Jadeite would be the pack's Alpha if Darien was lost.

But no one wanted that, not even Jadeite. Her brother was the true Alpha.

"Then do it for the mate you will leave behind, alone and defenceless the face her own beast and loneliness without you! You will condemn a female of a dying race to her death in a time when new life is so desperately needed! You are stronger than a mere rogue, damn it! Remember that, Darien!"

And with a huff of barely controlled fury, Darien watched his fiery sister whirl on her heel and stalk away from him, worry and fear drenching her scent as thoroughly as her anger.

Rei was doing what she thought best, she did not and could not understand his struggle, and he loved her for her caring sisterly way. He did not worry for his sisters sake after he was gone; Rei would be kept safe by her mate and by the pack. He did not fear for her, now when she had her mate.

Something he would never know.

---

Serena woke, feeling disorientated and detached from reality.

She had known it was a dream, but it had felt so real! She had never had a dream so vivid or emotionally disconcerting! Her heart was still racing and her breathing was shallow and rapid, she was panting like she'd just run a mile unprepared.

Serena slowly sat up in her single bed, realising that the white cotton sheet was wrapped around her in such a dishevelled way that she knew she'd been tossing and turning restlessly. Her pillow wasn't on the bed or on the floor any where around her. It took a minute of visibly searching the room to locate it.

It was in her doorless closest, sitting on top of her tennis shoes. Her muddy tennis shoes.

Just great. All Serena wanted to do was to go back to sleep and deal with everything another day.

It was bad enough that she felt so tired because she'd had such a distressing dream about being chased through the woods by a black shadow that she hadn't been able to see with the full moon overhead, but now she had to wash her only pillowcase on top of it.

After a brief glance at her bedside table clock, Serena threw her upper body back down onto the bed and pulled her sheet up over her head with a long deep groan.

Great, it got even better. Her alarm hadn't gone off over an hour ago and she'd slept in. She had no classes today, but she was late in meeting the girls for breakfast before they spent the day studying for their approaching midterms in the next two weeks.

If this was how the day was starting, just what was the day going to be like?

---

Serena arrived at the dainty little café on Campus that did the best breakfast – at a student's prices – just as the girls were leaving. They gave her slightly affectionate but mainly annoyed looks – they'd been her friends forever, they knew her well – so Serena had brought her breakfast and had eaten it on the way while Lita had carried her backpack with her textbooks and notebook inside, ready to do some serious studying.

Her breakfast had been a banana and a fruit and muesli bar.

Her three best friends – all of which were as different as black was too white, but they all loved and were loyal to each other to no end – were all she had except for her brother-.

But Serena refused to think about him now. It hurt too much, all she wanted to do was spend some time with the girls, even if that time was spent studying.

First, there was Mina, who looked so much like her that they could've been blood sisters. Mina had almost the same shade of golden blonde hair as her, although Serena knew that her hair was a deeper golden that Mina's – but it was by a single tone's difference – and it was longer too. While Mina's hair ran down to her backside, Serena's brushed her the backs of her knees. Mina wore her hair in a big blue bow at the back of her head, which made her look almost sweet. Both of their eyes were shades of blue; while Mina's was a medium blue, Serena's own were a light sky blue. They were also both shortish – Mina was taller by a mere two inches – and slim, however Mina had more in the chest department than Serena did.

Mina dismissed that fact when Serena voiced it by insisting that Serena was just a late bloomer, that she still had some "filling-out" to do.

Serena loved Mina for that; she was a tad insecure about her slim figure.

Mina was the happiest person on the planet, and was just as enthusiastic about studying and school as Serena was, but they all helped each other through that. Mina was kind and generous and ambitious to no end, she wanted to be a famous singer and she had the voice to accomplish it. Mina was the kind of outgoing person who had the determination to go after anything she wanted and was sure to get it.

Amy was the almost the exact opposite of Mina. Amy was as short as Serena and almost as slim and girl-like, but that was where the resemblance ended. Amy had short black hair that flowed around her head like air, but in the direct light Amy's hair almost looked deep ocean blue. It was weird but Amy had insisted since they had met that she'd been born with it. Her eye colour was only a shade or two lighter than the blue tint in her hair and she always dressed like a sweet little catholic girl. She was shy and quiet, with just a tad of social-inadequacy, but that came from a lifetime of being so much more intelligent than most other people. Amy had a mind that was so sharp and brilliant that several prestigious Universities had almost gone to war over to have her attend their institution, but Amy was as loving and as loyal a friend as anyone else.

When the other girls had all decided that they should go to the same University, Amy hadn't hesitated. She had the potential to be great, change-the-world kind of great, and could have gone anywhere, to the very best schools, but to reassure them she had assured them that she knew what she was doing.

She didn't need to go to the best schools to change the world.

Amy could do anything and be anyone she wanted to be, and she had chosen family. They all loved her for that. It would have been so hard to watch her go knowing they would have only seen her once or twice a year, but they would have endured it if it had been what Amy had really wanted.

But what Amy had really wanted had been her friends; one's Serena knew Amy wouldn't give up for anything.

And Lita, well if there was ever anyone to be called Amy's opposite, it was Lita. Lita wasn't smart like Amy – no one was – or had a model figure and flawless beauty like Mina, but Lita had her own beauty. She was the most loyal, loving, protective and out-spoken person Serena had ever known. She stood nearly a full head taller than Mina, towering over the three of them, and was a tom-boy to boot.

Serena had once heard someone describe Lita as an Amazon Queen. She'd had to admit, the description did fit. Lita was tall, with long legs – again something she'd heard – and her long medium brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, all except a few stray strands that framed her face. Her eyes were a gorgeous deep green that reminded Serena of dark emeralds. Lita was fearless, relentless and physically skilful. She was competent in three martial arts, never hesitated to protect or stand up for a friend and she dated a lot – every cute guy she went out with reminded her of her ex-boyfriend, although she never said which one she was talking about.

And Lita was well endowed in the chest department. No doubt she'd been wearing women's bras in middle school.

They were all the best of friends, despite their differences, as close as any sisters ever could be. They had been together for longer than they could ever remember and they planned to remain close for the rest of their lives.

"Come'on, Serena!"

Serena blinked, pulling herself from her thoughts, to realise that the three girls were standing on the steps of the library, looking back at her, waiting for her. She had been so deep in thought that she hadn't realised that they had reached the library already.

With a wide happy grin, Serena hurried up the stairs after them. Studying was boring, but spending time with her friends was worth anything.

No matter what happened, no matter what life through at them, they would always have each other. They were sisters and nothing would ever change that. Serena wouldn't lefty it, not for anything.

---

Serena could not believe that she was running so late! Again! It was the second time in the one day! Her curfew at the dorm had passed two hours ago!

It wasn't that she couldn't get back into the dorm; she had her student ID on her. She had learned not to leave it behind in her first few months at the University. The problem was that the doors would be locked for the night and the only way in now was to buzz the RA who would insist on seeing her Student ID, and then Serena knew she'd have to endure the tiresome lecture – that was exactly the same every time, word for word – all the way up to her dorm room. The RA was a busy-body with an inflated sense of importance.

Serena swore that if her RA ever met the President of the United States she would be telling him exactly what she thought he was doing wrong and how to do it better, in other words, her way.

It was dark and midnight wasn't far off. Serena didn't like going through the park at night, especially so late at night. It wasn't safe or smart for someone like her to tempt fate. She wasn't so conceited that she thought herself beautiful or anything, but she wasn't a fool either, she owned a mirror and since hitting mid-high school had always had some male attention. She was no Mina or Lita, who was usually the centre of male attention, and for that she was glad.

But that said attention wasn't always – if ever – a good thing. It made it dangerous for her to be out alone late at night; her slim size made her an easy target.

She should have asked Lita to walk with her home but she hadn't liked the idea of Lita then being the one to walk home alone; Lita may have been able to take care of herself a lot of the time but she wasn't some female Superman.

So Serena had bid her friends goodnight and had left them, heading back to the dorm through the park alone. Stupid for her own personal safety but at least she didn't have to worry about her friends.

As dangerous as it was for her to be out late at night alone in the city, Serena loved the night and the moon; she would stare at the moon for hours, from her bedroom window, she had for as long as she could remember. The night and the moon soothed her somehow, like an enduring promise made long ago that had yet to be fulfilled; she'd never been able to explain it, not even to herself.

Pulling her coat tighter around her, Serena nudged her backpack higher onto her shoulder and kept on walking with her head down and her pace hurried. The last thing she needed was to be noticed. She was grateful that it was a cold winter's night, so she could cover up without standing out. The cold also kept others inside. She had a thick woollen scarf wrapped around her neck and face, and a beanie pulled down over her head, which kept her golden strands concealed and her thick, heavy winter coat did a great job of hiding her slim and often referred to – to her great embarrassment – as the "figure of a goddess" figure hidden.

The girls and she had spent most of the day and the evening in the library studying. Amy had suggested at sunset to call it quits, but the rest of them had reluctantly disagreed, stating that they needed to study a bit more.

And of course Amy had stayed even though the three of them had no doubt that Amy could ace all her exams – blindfolded and with both her hands tied behind her back.

Serena herself had wanted to agree with Amy, but she however had to study a lot more. She couldn't fail any of her midterms. They had eventually become so immersed in their studies that they hadn't noticed how late it was growing until the announcement over the PA system that the library would be closing in fifteen minutes, effectively alerting them to the lateness of the hour.

Serena didn't like to admit it but she wasn't so great at the college stuff, but she did try. She studied hard and did her best to maintain her grades. Unlike in high school, in which she hadn't applied herself, she now had the drive she'd been lacking in her early teenage years. She wanted to graduate and find her place in the world, even though she still felt as if she didn't belong within it.

All her life, Serena had felt as if there was something waiting for her, as if she didn't belong where she was. It was a strange sense of purpose and waiting for something to happen, and it had made her teenage years harder, but now she was trying her best to overcome it and forget it. To move passed it and find her place in life, a place where she fit and was happy.

For a time in her teenage years Serena had almost been convinced that it was destiny that was calling out to her, that she'd been born for more than the average boring life she was leading. But now she liked her life, and she wanted to feel content and at peace in it, and for the first time in her life, she was beginning to feel just that.

Serena had her three best friends whom she loved as sisters, and she was even dating – although all the guys she'd dated in the last two years had been jerks or losers. It had been two years since she'd gone on more than three dates with a single guy and even longer before she'd gone beyond second base with any of them.

Mina, Amy and Lita kept trying to set her up out of love and concern, but it never worked out with the guys they did set her up with.

Why, Serena hadn't a clue. Most of the guys had been good decent guys, a few she could have called gentlemanly, but still she hadn't been able to make the relationships last or even progress.

But her friends were always there when things didn't work out, whether she needed them or not, just as she was there for them.

They were all the family she had except for her younger brother, but she never got to see him, especially not these days while she was at University. Their parents had died in a plane crash when Serena had turned seventeen. With no immediate family, Sammy had been sent to live with a distant uncle in Utah while she had moved in with Mina for the last six months before she'd turned eighteen. Their distant uncle had only been able to take one of them.

And while Serena loved her brother very much, every time she went to see him she didn't fail to see the sadness in his eyes seeing her brought to her brother. Exactly what caused Sammy's sadness when he saw her she didn't know, but she suspected that she reminded Sammy of just what the both of them had lost.

At least they both had been given what their parents had endeavoured so hard to give them both – money for their education. The airline had paid out a large sum that they had labelled "compensation" and they'd had their parent's money that had been left to them. All up the sum was enough to put them both through University and most of the left over money had gone to their Uncle to help support Sammy.

Serena had only kept a little to kick start her savings. When she graduated, Serena intended to get her own place in which she could offer Sammy a home until he turned eighteen. That was if he wanted it.

Serena's heart swelled with sadness at the thoughts of her brother and their lost parents. They had been a happy and close family, until everything had fallen apart. Her mother had been the perfect mother, the kind that had tucked her into bed – no matter how old she had gotten she had checked on her every night before her parent's had gone to bed – had fussed over her when she'd been sick, had kicked her butt out the door when she had made a fuss over going to school and she had loved both her children as deeply as a mother ever could and she made sure they knew it. Her father had loved his children no less than his wife, but he had been the one who had grounded them when they'd done something wrong, had taught them to play sports, had built them a fort slash cubby house when they had wanted one, and when she had reached high school, her father had been the one to chase away and/or threaten any boy who had shown any interest in her in the name of protecting his little girl.

They were gone and Serena missed them with all her heart, but she'd forced herself to keep on living. It was what her parents would have wanted her to do; she wasn't happy now but one day she would be, when she had accomplished her dream of having a home of her own and maybe for her brother too.

Tears had filled her eyes, but Serena refused to let them fall. She had cried enough to last a life time; she needed to be strong and assertive now. Focused. She needed to live her life and do whatever she could to make Sammy's better.

Holding back the tears until their threat was gone Serena drew in a deep calming breath and turned her focus back to the footpath beneath her feet.

That was when Serena once again became aware of her surroundings; that was when she heard it.

A twig snapped somewhere close.

Serena's head snapped up and she hastily scanned her surroundings. She was walking along the lit footpath but other than that, all around her was darkness. There was a full moon overhead, but while standing in the light of the overhead light post as she was, it did not help visibility. While she stood in the light, dense darkness swelled around her.

Other than the wind rustling the leaves in the trees, there was no movement that she could see, but still that didn't mean anything.

Fear swelled to life within her, her heart hammering in her ears and her stomach came alive with nervous butterflies. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention and the feeling that she was being watched was so overwhelming that it was an effort to keep breathing. There was danger close by, she could sense it like some people could sense a coming storm before it ever showed on the horizon.

Serena focused everything she had on the darkness and silence around her. Damn it! She should have been keeping a vigilant watch on her surroundings instead of daydreaming!

Suddenly, Serena sensed something in the darkness, her alerted instincts alerting her to the fact that she was not alone, that she was being not only being watched, she was being hunted. She'd always trusted her instincts, and she'd learnt long ago not to ignore them, they kept her safe and out of danger. She couldn't explain it, but her instincts were rarely wrong.

Serena looked up and around her, but there was nothing but darkness.

Drawing in a deep breath Serena stepped forward until she was out of the circle of light from the light above, but she was careful to remain on the footpath. The last thing she needed to do was stray from the footpath that was the usual way through the park. As long as she was on the footpath then there was always the chance that someone may come along who could help her.

It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust, but once they did Serena hastily scanned the seemingly deserted park, her keen eyes searching the deep shadows around her and the tree line. The tree line was far enough away to prevent anyone jumping out at her, but close enough for her to still be wary of. She saw nothing, but her senses were insistent – they were screaming at her.

Serena listened intently as she tensed, her ears straining, ready to run like the wind if she saw someone or something but again she could see nothing. She'd always been a great runner. She didn't run track or anything, mostly she'd run to school in the mornings because as a teenager she'd loved her sleep so much that she'd overslept more often than not. Still she had yet to meet anyone who could outrun her, a talent that had saved her in the past. She was also able to run at a faster pace longer than anyone else she knew.

Again, a talent that she'd perfected from all those years of doing the mad dash to school. She's run like the wind but she'd still always been late and constantly gotten detention because of it.

Cold laughter suddenly broke through the dark silence, laughter so chillingly malicious that it sent shivers up her spine. Her instincts were now screaming at her to get out of there as fast as she could, that she was in grave danger, and she was about to heed her instincts when she heard a noise come from the bushes at her back.

Serena whirled around, her instincts now screaming at her that she was surrounded, trapped. Something she couldn't stand.

Serena had always needed to be free, to feel free. She didn't like the feeling of being trapped even in the smallest sense. In fact sitting in her lectures was torture for her. Her eyes were always going to the exits to assure that they were still clear in case she had to make a run for it. The only way she ever managed to study was either in her own space in her dorm – at the window – or in the huge library that footsteps easily echoed within, even when it wasn't deserted.

She, however, felt the most at home when she was either running or alone in the night – someplace deserted and safe – with a full moon above her. That had always brought feelings of peace to her.

But right now Serena felt anything but peaceful. Dropping her bag from her shoulder, Serena moved back into the middle of the footpath directly beneath the light post and scanned the terrain and the darkness around her for the owner of the voice, but she couldn't focus on him or on the direction from which it had come, or more terrifyingly, on them.

What was going on?! Why couldn't she find the owner of the voice?! No one had ever been able to hide from her, not even in a pitch black room; her senses had at least always been able to tell her which direction the danger was coming from!

Something was really wrong and she was in grave danger. Her senses were clueless and her instincts screamed at her to run; only she didn't know in which direction to run. For all she knew she could end up running straight to them.

"Oh, the little bunny is scared." Laughed a menacing darkly amused voice from behind her.

Serena gasped and whirled around to see a man standing there with a menacing smirk on his thin lips and with eyes so black that they couldn't possibly belong to a human. Her eyes quickly scanned him. He was huge! At least seven feet tall and as bulky as a tree trunk, the kind that seemed to reach the sky! His skin was a deadly pale white, even with the long sandy brown hair that framed his long face, and his teeth were . . . it almost looked as if he had fangs!

But that wasn't possible, was it? Surely, she was imagining things due to her fear and the adrenaline flooding her system.

Serena couldn't help herself, she retreated a step from him. He just seemed to radiate danger that promised her death.

"Who are you?!" Serena demanded, forcing her voice to remain steady and not tremble. What was going on? She was never this afraid, but her senses screamed at her that this was no ordinary man, that he was someone who was a great danger to her.

She had to get out of there immediately!

Serena took another few steps back and gasped in surprise when she stepped back into a solid frame. She spun around and gasped at the sight of a second man who looked simular to the other, with pale skin, black eyes, built like a rhino and fang-like teeth. Only this one had dark hair that only made him seem paler than death.

Serena backed away from him, turning around halfway so that she could keep the both of them in sight.

Who were these monstrous whackos and what did they want from her?

It was hard to focus on what was happening around her when inside she was overwhelmed with dread and fear. Her heart was beating so fast that the sound was like that of a hummingbird's wing, and her hands and arms had gone cold, despite the heavy layers she wore, and she knew it wasn't due to the cold, and her stomach felt as if it was full of butterflies that were made of ice. She was either going to be sick or feint.

Maybe both.

The two pale strangers watched her retreat from them with darkly anticipating smirks on their pale white lips, watching her as if she were a tasty treat they couldn't wait to savour. It was so weird, she'd never seen a man look at her like that before, they weren't watching her with lustful hunger; rather they just looked really hungry.

What kind of trouble had she gotten herself into?

"What do you think, Lewis?" The second asked the other, casual dark amusement evident in his tone, he might as well be commenting on the weather that he found mildly interesting. "Should we kill her now or have ourselves some fun first?"

Serena's eyes grew wide at his words and her fear became full-fledged terror as she turned her attention to the first and watched him scan her from head to toe, studying her while clearly thinking the question over.

"She is a pretty little thing."

Serena slipped her backpack from her shoulder little by little, until the strap was in her hand and she tensed; her intention was to use her backpack as a weapon against them so that she would have a chance to run. It wasn't much, she only had one heavy textbook in it, but the backpack was all she had.

There was no one there to save her, there never was when a person needed it, such was the way of life; she had to save herself. She had to live, because if she died then her brother would not recover from so much loss, the loss of his entire family. He was barely hanging on as it was; it may sadden him to see her, but he still loved her. She was his sister, the last of his real family.

Serena was about to spring into action when suddenly someone grabbed her from behind in a painful steel-hard grip, gripping onto her arms so tightly that she knew he'd leave dark bruises. As she cried out in startled pain, Serena found herself being pulled back against a cold chest so hard that the air was knocked from her lungs.

Was the guy wearing body armour or was he just made of steel? Serena found the thought crossing her perplexed mind, in some corner of which she realised that she may have just been out of it a little bit; lost touch with reality kind of thing.

As Serena struggled to breath, she struggled against the third that held her, but she knew it was no use, he was far too strong.

Stronger than any normal man; he didn't seem to notice her efforts to struggle at all.

Were they on drugs? Was that why they were like this? Pale and so strong? She didn't know much about drugs, but there were those that made some people pale and physically stronger, or something, right?

Serena looked down at the hand that held her so brutally and noticed that it was as pale as the flesh of the other two.

All at once Serena knew that they were serious. They were going to kill her and they were going to do it without hesitation or mercy, and she didn't even know why.

"Please no." Serena whimpered helplessly, tears once again flooding her eyes. She knew that they really did intend to kill her and there was nothing that she could do about it. There were three of them and they were so strong.

The three of them laughed with evil anticipating pleasure at her desperate plea, they even seemed to be enjoying her obvious state of terror and her helpless pathetic pleas.

So this was her fate; to be killed by these three men in the park at night . .

No! Every survival instinct and every bit of courage, rage and determination that she possessed rose up in her like a storm of furious will. She'd never given up before and she wasn't about to start now! She'd been on her own and she'd survived ever since her parents had died. It was not going to end like this!

Acting fast and without warning – and clearly catching them off guard – Serena dropped to her knees, effectively slipping out of her coat that the man held, and slipped free from the man's hold. She then quickly rolled away from him. She had intended to jump to her feet and run, to find someplace safe, but before she could get to her feet, she sensed one of the men move to stand over her.

The tale pale man moved before Serena could react. He was suddenly beside her, pushing her down into the icy hard surface of the pavement. He then – she didn't even know which of the three it was – ruthlessly, and with greater inhuman strength, pulled her hands behind her back and held them with an unbreakable grip above her head.

The three men were laughing with dark pleasure and hungry anticipation. They were enjoying this and their anticipation at what they were going to do next was exciting them.

"My, she's a feisty one!" Laughed the man at her back, the one who was restraining her.

What did they want from her?!

Serena struggled against him, but he held her even more tightly, squeezing her flesh so hard that she cried out in pain even louder than before. If she survived this she'd be covered in large angry bruises! Hell, if his hold on her tightened anymore, he was going to break bones!

Sensing movement above her, Serena became aware of the other two men on their feet looming over her. The one who was holding her, while keeping her restrained on the ground with one hand, roughly pulled off her beanie and scarf, freeing her long golden hair and revealing her neck and shoulders.

"Well, beautiful one." The man said excitedly as he stroked the hair from her face, almost tenderly, so he had an unobstructed view of her face. "It's time to say goodnight, sweetheart."

Serena could do nothing as the large pale man above her slowly lowered his bared fangs – she couldn't wrap her mind around it, fangs! – toward her bared neck. She didn't know who in the hell he was, or what in the hell he was, but she knew that she was in real deep trouble with no chance of getting out of it on her own.

Why, oh why, had she stayed at the library so late? Serena thought about her brother, what her death would do to him and she heard a sob escape her parted lips. Poor Sammy, he'd already lost so much.

Serena closed her eyes and prayed to heavens for a miracle.

'Please, someone help me.'

---

Darien scanned the mortal park, his eyes seeing through the darkness as if it were daylight. He had momentarily lost the scent as those he hunted had moved downwind and too many of the Damned had passed through the park. Parks and exercise paths – running, bike, even nature paths – were often popular hunting groups for the Damned. There were always straggling mortals that were running late and thought to take the short rout through a deserted area where predators laid in wait or exercised alone during evening or dawn hours.

Now Darien turned to his other senses.

For the last hour Darien had been hunting, as he did most nights, for any of the Damned. Unlike the uncursed of the Immortal Races, the Damned preferred to dwell in human cities which provided them with an abundance of human prey and did better to hide their tracks and their kills.

In small mortal towns, the people who went missing were for the most part, reported missing almost immediately.

This made hunting the Damned more time consuming but not more difficult. His race had almost been created to hunt and kill, even the Damned that were made up of his own kind by half. It was a very rare event that he failed to find and kill his prey, Damned or otherwise. In fact it was rare these days that he had to shift form to hunt and kill.

A few hundred metres to his right, Darien heard menacing male laughter and knew it was the Damned he'd been looking for. It seemed that they had found some prey of their own.

Doubting that he would need to shift forms to deal with these Damned, Darien turned on his heel and ran with the superhuman speed of his race in the direction of the laughter.

Another great advantage of hunting the Damned in this day and age was that they were cocky, reckless, stupid and had become lazy. Only the eldest and most experienced of the Damned gave him any challenge anymore, and even then it had been centuries since he'd had a real challenge.

Darien had become so bored with his routine of late, that he virtually hungered for a challenge this night, even if it meant his life.

Darien had long since become fed up with this life that death, in which-ever form, was welcome upon him.

It wasn't as if he had anything to live for these days. His people were dying, his duty of fighting the Damned was becoming more pointless by the year, and he had so long ago given up the hope that he would ever find his mate.

---

Serena screamed as sharp hot piercing pain pulsated through her as the monster of a man bit deep into the flesh of her throat. She could hear him slurping as he greedily drank and licked her blood as the other two laughed and bounced around them impatiently. He drank like her blood was the sweetest tasting thing he'd ever known, not daring to spill a single drop of the liquid that kept her alive.

The other two seemed to be waiting for their turn, and they weren't waiting patiently.

Everything in her mind told her that she was wrong, but Serena couldn't deny what she was happening right before her eyes. Despite every ounce of logic within her telling her that she was wrong, that she wasn't being attacked by Vampires!

But it was the only thing that fit with all the evidence. How they were so strong and fast and as pale as death! And their long gleaming pointed fangs! Not to mention that they were drinking her blood like it was water from the Fountain of Youth!

"It's my turn!" Whined one of the other two as he impatiently bounced back and forth from foot to foot. "You drained the last one, remember?"

The one drinking from her raised his head from her throat and snarled like a furious feral animal at the impatient one. "And I'll drain this one if I want too! Now shut up and let me feed, unless you want to take her place!"

Serena blinked up at him, feeling numb and disorientated. Despite everything, she couldn't help but be amused at how childish and immature they were. They were behaving exactly like every other guy she knew.

Were the vampires immortal? Just how old were they?

Laughter filled her ears, feminine laughter, and Serena found herself oddly wondering who it was that was laughing. Was there a female with them? She hadn't seen one but with the way they had surrounded her so quickly, there could have been a dozen vampires around her and she wouldn't have known it until they chose to show themselves.

Serena watched as the vampire on top of her turned his attention back to her, fury in his soulless black eyes, and he said through a heavy warning hiss, "Stop laughing!"

It wasn't until then that Serena realised that she was the one laughing. She couldn't help herself; the situation was so ridiculous. She couldn't stop herself from laughing, even though a part of her mind was telling her that she was losing it.

Enraged now that she was still laughing at him, the vampire raised his hand with the clear intention of striking her, and Serena found herself frozen in horror in the space of a heartbeat, finally able to obey.

And then the vampire feeding on her was gone.

Serena blinked in confusion as she found herself staring up into empty air as the vampire and his weight disappeared in less time than it took for her to blink.

Even the playful and impatient laughter of the other two vampires was gone.

Perplexed, and realising that she was free to do so, Serena raised her head and gasped silently in shocked incomprehension.

What the . . . ?

Rising up onto her elbows, and ignoring the sharp throbbing pain from her neck in favour of watching what was happening before her, Serena's eyes grew impossibly wide at the sight before her.

A tall man – not as tall, or as bulky, as the vampire who'd been drinking her blood – dressed in a thick black coat that ended but an inch from the ground, was standing between her and her three pale attackers. He had his back to her, and so all she could tell about him was that his hair was blacker than his coat.

The vampire – or whatever the hell he was – was crouching on the ground between the new arrival and her other two pale attackers, both of who were hunched over battle-ready like the vampires in old movies. All three were baring their pointed fang-like teeth and snarling menacingly at the tall man in black.

Who was this dark stranger? Was he with them or was he there to help her? He had pulled the vampire off of her – or at least that's what it seemed like had happened. It had happened way too fast for her eyes to see or her mind to comprehend.

Did he know what they were?

Darien ignored the young woman that the Damned had been feeding on for now. Even though the scent of her blood filled the air, swirling around him as the damning temptation that it was, he knew the injury wasn't fatal. His beast was stirring, ravenous, with the scent of fresh warm blood in the air. His beast wanted him to kill the three Damned and then finish off their meal, to savour the intoxicating taste of human flesh and life blood, but Darien ignored it and forced it down, leashing his beast so to speak, as he had always done.

But it was becoming harder and harder to ignore the beast that was growing stronger and more persistent within him with each passing month. Soon it would be only weeks and finally he would be battling against everything that he was in effort to hold on. He was close to the edge; he had run out of time to find his mate as his beast was becoming too strong within him. He had realised two years ago, that when he drew too close to the edge, when he became a threat to his pack, he would end his life by his own hand. He would rather die than become what he hunted, to risk harming his own people or the mortals he had for so long protected.

Darien forced his thoughts away from the fate that await him. He was hunting now. He had to be sharp if he wanted to kill all three Damned and save the mortal female. He had been too late to save the two mortal women the night before, but this one he could – would – save.

His end was coming quickly, but he was determined to carry out his duty, killing Damned and saving innocence, until the very end.

Darien considered the three Damned, calculating, his well trained and experienced eyes sizing them up. He would start with the one he had pulled from the victim at his back. He was the biggest of the three that most likely made his the superior – he used the term lightly when it came to the lower ranking Damned – of the three.

The Damned were much younger than him, maybe only five or six hundred years between the three of them. They hadn't realised his presence until he'd revealed himself to save the mortal woman; a more experienced Damned would never have left themselves so vulnerably open to attack. Not only did they have to watch out for those that hunted them but also for other hunting packs of their kind. There was no honour, no allegiance, between the Damned – at least not in the masses, out of fear they were somewhat loyal to their king, the strongest and oldest of the Damned – another pack of hunting Damned would just as likely kill the three Damned and take their prey for themselves.

Behind him, Darien could hear the mortal woman breathing frantically but shallowly; in the back of his mind he wondered if she was going to feint. Such a behavioural trait was once common amongst mortal females, but in recent times mortal women had become stronger in their will, their character and their nature. Or maybe they had merely realised their true strength, by whatever cause, mortal women were no longer seen as the delicate useless creatures they had once been considered as. They did the work of men, earned their own way in the world, had choices and equality.

In fact, the time of the world of men had long since passed in the world of mortals. To Darien's eyes, he was beginning to realise that it was not men who truly had sway over the world anymore.

Darien forcibly pulled his focus from her and the changes of women in the mortal world. As for the mortal woman he had yet to catch her scent except for the almost overpowering odour of fresh human blood. He could hear her heartbeat; the rhythm was frantic and its beats were strong. She would live, even though the air was taunting him with the promise of hot fresh blood.

The Damned hadn't been feeding long; she would live, maybe even without medical assistance.

"How dare you, Lycaon!" The Damned who'd been feeding when Darien had intervened roared furiously through his vampiric fangs, his black eyes blazing with black fury.

Darien resisted the urge to shake his head in disgust at them. They were young and a disgrace to Immortal kind. The older of Damned and Immortal kind knew him on sight, or scent, whatever the case may have been. They would have known his age and the power in his blood even if they had not known him. As the prince of his kind, and one of the last of the Ancients of the Immortal races, his "abilities" were above those of most of the Immortals. Outside of the Immortal royal families and their courts, there were very few Ancients left. They had all succumb to their beasts or to the darkness.

But then again, there were very few Immortals left, period. The Immortal races were one the crusts of extinction. If something did not change soon the Immortal Races would not last the next half Millennia.

"You'll die for interfering!" Hissed another of the Damned, crouching with perfect stable balance as he swayed back and forth as only an Immortal could. A mortal would have fallen flat on their face should they have attempted it as the Damned Anami was.

Darien merely glared darkly at them, just daring them to attack him. He knew they would. The young lacked the patience and control; they tended to be impulsive and cocky. So he waited, silently, patiently. Ready for when they dared to attack him.

And there it was. Darien saw it as clear as day. All the young made the mistake of betraying the telltale signs of preparing to attack; the twitch of the check, the narrowing of the eyes, the tensing of their legs and the expanding of their fingers. An ability of both Immortal races was that they could turn their fingernails into claws, with a mere thought, that could tear through cars like tissue paper.

The Damned were preparing to do just that with the intention of tearing into his flesh.

The Damned who'd been feeding, the dominant of the three, gave a vicious snarling roar and lunged at him.

Darien allowed a small grin of dark deadly anticipation to take hold of his lips as the Damned approached at the speed of sound with his fangs bared and his claw-like nails extended like daggers.

Darien waited until the absolute last possible moment before he, with speed that was beyond these Damned, threw his upper body to the right and out of the way of the attack of the Damned. At the same time, Darien brought his arm up and wrapped it around the throat of the attacking Damned when he would have otherwise flown straight passed him.

Using his superior strength, Darien hauled the Damned he'd capture backwards against him while he willed his fingernails to extend into claws on his left hand. With a powerful thrust upwards, the sharp claws pierced the flesh and bone of the Damned of his back, until he pierced the heart from behind, severing the spinal cord in the same motion.

There were only two ways to kill an Immortal – three if he included sun exposure for the Anami, but they had to be in the high sun for several minutes before they were weakened and burned to death – that was either decapitation or injuring the heart until it could no longer continue to beat and so that it could not regenerate. For one who was trained and had the know-how, it wasn't too difficult.

Darien was a Lycaon, which meant that he could take the form of a wolf – a large one, bigger than the typical sized mortal car – or the form of a human. He was strongest in his wolf form. He was also able to call upon minute changes in his human form, such as turn his fingernails into the claws of his wolf form.

Darien felt the life fade from the Damned he held and he wretched his hand from the back of the Damned and allowed the body to fall limply to the ground at his feet. He hand was drenched and dripping with the black blood of the Damned vampire.

Unlike mortal myths, Anami nor Lycaon turned to ashes when they died. The Anami or the Damned would burst into flame if in the sun too long, but that required several minutes of direct midday or afternoon sunlight exposure. It was rare for one to remain in the light of day for that long; mainly it was the most efficient way for an Anami to commit suicide.

Darien turned his attention back to the remaining two Damned, who now possessed the appropriate level of trepidation and wariness in their black eyes. All three Damned were Anami, which was fortunate. An untrained unaware vampire was easier to kill than a Damned Lycaon as they tended to make a much greater racket.

They were going to run, Darien could see it in their black eyes and he could not allow that. Every Damned he came across was his to dispose of. He could not let one live if he had a choice in the matter.

With a mere thought, Darien willed his claws to retract and return to human fingernails. He reached inside his coat with his right unbloodied hand and pulled out a small silver dagger. Silver was another human myth, it did not cause any harm to an Immortal, but it was used because it was a strong and long lasting metal.

The two remaining Damned took a fearful retreating step from him. They could take a hundred retreating steps from him, they would never escape him. He had their scent now, and even though a scent could be masked, they did not have the time, nor the know-how, to do so.

"Who are you?" Asked the smaller of the two remaining Damned.

Darien looked into the dark eyes of the Damned and for not the first time, wondered if there was truly anything left of his former self within him. He had always wondered but had never asked. They wouldn't have given him a truthful answer anyway.

But tonight Darien would answer them.

"I am the scourge of the Damned." Darien tightened his told on his dagger. "I am your death."

And with those words, Darien attacked before they had the chance to even attempt to flee. With deadly accurate aim, Darien threw the dagger at the smaller of the two with less than all his strength and charged at the other. No mortal had the strength to pierce the flesh of an Immortal, Animi, Lycaon or Damned alike, and neither could any weapon the mortals could forge. The only reason a weapon like daggers and swords were effective was because of the Immortal superhuman hand that held them and the force and strength with which they were wielded.

With an agonised horrified cry, the smaller fell to the ground with the silver dagger protruding from his chest, embedded to the hilt. It had pierced the dead centre of his heart.

With a fearful cry the remaining Damned screamed for his life and shrank back even as Darien took hold of his head in both hands and violently snapped his neck and continuing until, with a spray of black blood that Darien expertly avoided, the head came completely detached from the body.

Darien kicked the headless body so that it landed over the body of the other fallen Damned. Dropping the head into the lap of its previous owner, he then pulled his dagger from the chest of the other Damned and with a flick of his wrist wiped it clean on the Damned's shirt.

Behind him the innocent mortal female whimpered in terror, but Darien had one more thing he had to do before he could see to her.

He fought like a fierce warrior from some supernatural horror movie! Serena couldn't move. All she could do was stare into the back of the dark stranger who had just killed all three of the vampire thingy's in a matter of seconds. She hadn't even seen his face yet! The vampires hadn't stood a chance. He'd moved so fast that she hadn't been able to even see him move. He was so skilful and fast that none of the vampires had been able to lay a hand on him.

Serena watched helplessly, motionlessly, as the dark stranger, who'd just saved her life, picked up the body of the one who'd been drinking her blood and threw the body on top of the bodies of the other two. She hadn't been able to see how he'd killed them, and she was trying very hard not to look at the bodies, but he had done so without fault.

He moved with such silent stealth and agility and grace that he didn't seem human. He made no sound when he moved and he showed such strength and speed! He moved the bodies with a single hand with such ease, as if they were merely hollow foam dummies!

A metallic click pierced the silence and a moment later flames leapt into life from where the bodies of the three vampire things had been piled.

It took Serena another long moment before she realised that he was burning the bodies. She could feel the warmth of the dancing flames on her cold face. It wasn't until then that she realised that she was still laying on the icy pavement with her scarf gone and her shirt pulled to the side while her own blood continue to trickle from the two puncture wounds in her neck.

Slowly, while never taking her eyes from the dark stranger, Serena timidly rose to her feet, unable to remain on the ground a moment longer. If this dark stranger was a threat to her, she was damned sure going to at least try to make a run for it even though she knew after all she'd seen that she wasn't going to make it far. She would be lucky to make it two steps before he caught her.

Sensing – as well as hearing the rustling of clothing – the mortal woman rise to her feet, Darien sighed heavily. Now it was time to face another terrified traumatized victim. If he had any luck at all, she'd be in shock and wouldn't remember anything in the morning.

At least he didn't have to watch this one die, or worse have to put her out of her misery himself. He always knew when a victim could be helped and when it was more merciful to end their suffering rather than let them live their last few agonising hours in a hospital surrounded by doctors unable to save them, but futilely trying regardless.

It was never any easier to face the victims, whether they lived or not.

With another heavy sigh, and the need to get it over with as soon as possible, Darien slowly turned to face her and his eyes grew wide. His breath caught in his throat and his heart was pounding loudly in his ears. For the first time in centuries, he felt something, other than his beast, stir within him.

Before him was the most beautiful woman Darien had ever seen in all his millennia, mortal or Immortal. She stood there with her beautiful sparkling soft blue – and wide – eyes staring into him like angels did in mortal legends. It felt as if she were staring straight through him, into his tattered tarnished wreck of soul and seeing him for everything that he was. Her hair moved slowly in the wind around her, her beautiful golden hair flowed around her like golden sunlight. Artificial light from above her seemed to float like still liquid on her and gave the illusion that her milky flawless skin was glowing celestially. She was so petite, so small and tiny, even draped in thick layers to keep her warm from the winter cold, that she was the most fragile looking creature he had seen outside of a cradle.

Darien couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he couldn't even remember his own name. She had somehow captured him in that one look, just by her presence. There was nothing else in the world but her. Instincts he hadn't known in so many centuries flared to life inside of him like a supernova. They were so strong and so many that he couldn't even put a name to one of them.

What was happening to him?

Darien took an unsteady step towards her, needing to find out more. Needing to feel more. For so long he hadn't felt anything outside of the hunt and his hunger; with one look upon her more emotions than he could remember ever feeling came to life within him.

As he moved towards her, Darien watched as her eyes grew wide with fear and she shrank back from him.

Darien immediately – but slowly – raised his hands in a non-threatening comforting gesture, as if he were surrendering to her. The last thing he wished was for her to fear him, to retreat from him. He wanted her to stay, to remain with him for always. He wanted to protect and shield her form the dangers of the world. He wanted to lay his kill at her feet, the most submissive act of his race. It was something a male only did for his mate. It was a sign of complete and utter submission.

Darien could not understand it. Why did he have an almost choking need to protect this mortal woman? He had seen so many mortal women, even women of his own kind, killed before his eyes – never had he killed one intentionally by his own hand unless it was for a merciful death or a Damned female, that were extremely rare or that one mistake so long ago – and it had stopped affecting him long ago. For near a thousand years he had been numb by all the death, even the deaths of those close to him. But he had to protect this one; he had to keep her safe. No matter what it cost him.

"It's alright, little one." Darien told her, his voice as smoothing and as calm as he could make it. "I mean you no harm."

She was hesitant, terrified. It seemed beyond her to even utter a sound. He needed her to speak to him, to assure him that she wasn't gravely harmed even though his senses told him she wasn't.

The wind shifted direction and the scent of human blood filled his nostrils, only this time it didn't stir the beast within him as it had always done. This time the beast screamed at him to take away her pain instead of taking her life's blood and eat her still-warm flesh.

"You're injured." Darien told her, taking a slow exaggerated step towards her as he indicated at her throat where blood still flowed from her tiny body.

Fear flashed in her eyes once again but she made no move to retreat from him again. Darien took this as a positive sign.

"May I see?" He asked as he took yet another slow over-exaggerated step towards her. "I promise. I only wish to help you. I will not harm you."

Serena knew she should run, that she should get as far away from the dark stranger who had just slain three vampires without breaking a sweat, but for some reason she just couldn't bring herself to leave him. There was something about him that called her to him and it wasn't just that he was the most handsome man – or whatever – she'd ever seen in her entire life! It was something deeper, something much more primal and carnal.

The dark stranger had hair darker than the dead of night, locks of his blacker than black hair caressed his forehead and framed his eyes from above. He had dark blue eyes that she could have drowned in, eyes that reminded her of a night sky filled with millions upon millions of twinkling stars. He was tall and broad in a way that wasn't overly so, but she knew by her own sight that he was far stronger than he seemed. Beneath his shirt he had to at the very least be soundly muscled. His legs were those of a runner, steady and long. With his handsome face, steadily built body, lithe stride and fluid grace, this was a being that was, without any doubt, hell on the female population of the earth.

He was walking towards her so slowly, so carefully, that he seemed afraid that one sudden move would startle her and frighten her into bolting like some panicky flighty rabbit. If only she had the coherency to tell him that she couldn't run even though she wanted too. Her mind and her instincts screamed at her too, but her mind had lost communication with her body, and to top it off there was something about him that made her not want to run. That made her want to stay.

Serena gasped silently as he closed the last step of space separating them and he was there. His intoxicating scent filled her senses and the world started to spin around her. He smelt of blood, the deep woods and of raw sex! Jesus! As if she wasn't attracted to him enough – which was ludicrous in the current situation but she was – now his smell had hit her like some concentrated form of potent pheromones.

That settled it. She had completely lost it.

Her scent was the most intoxicating thing Darien had ever known and he'd been around the females of his kind when they'd been in heat since he was born all those centuries ago. She smelt so sweet and enticing that his mouth filled with saliva. Her scent was sunlight, vanilla, milk and honey all mixed into one, her scent was everything pure in this world, everything he was unworthy of.

Darien wanted to taste her so badly that he feared he would soon start drooling, but it was not her blood or her raw flesh that he hungered for. He wanted to taste her skin, her mouth, her sex. He wanted to taste every inch of her, to know and possess and brand every inch of her as his.

Her scent made him think of sunrises and wild passionate out-of-control mating, and it was forever more imprinted into his memory. He would always know her scent now, even if all the worlds scents were pulled together in one place, he would always know hers, always be able to follow it to her.

What's more, his libido suddenly flared into life with a passionate fury such as he had never known. He wanted her spread wet and wiling beneath him more than he'd ever wanted anything in his long immortal life. He wanted her, all of her. Everything that she was. He wanted to lay his kill at her feet; he wanted to run free through the woods with her, to hear her laughter. He wanted her to stay with him forever.

But Darien forced all of that away, for the moment. She was hurt, bleeding, and right now taking away her pain, healing her injury was more important to him than his own life, even more important than his family and his pack.

"Don't move." Darien commanded her gently, as he leaned down over her and took a gentle but firm hold of her shoulder to keep her still. The scent of her blood overpowered him, but again he did not want to drain her life's blood, he only wanted a taste, to only take as much as she could safely give, so that he would know her taste, so her taste would always be as deeply imbedded in his memory as her scent now was.

Darien lowered his mouth to her neck where the two fangs of the now deceased Damned had punctured the delicate soft flesh of her neck. Two steady streams of blood, which flowed from her torn punctured flesh, trickled down her shoulder and disappeared beneath her shirt.

Violent urges, also such as which Darien had never known, flared within him. He wanted to bring back the bastard that had bitten her and kill him again in the slowest, most painful way that he was capable of inflicting.

But he couldn't, not even he, the Lycaon Prince, could restore life once taken; so he would settle for healing the wound inflicted, for taking away her pain. Darien forced down the violent urges and instead slowly caressed the wound with his tongue.

Unlike the Anami, his kind had the added ability of healing saliva. Licking her wounds, they would heal at an accelerated rate. The healing could take as little as a matter of seconds, minutes and sometimes hours. It depended on the severity of the injury and the amount of saliva given.

The moment the taste of her hit his tongue, the taste of her blood and flesh, Darien knew without a doubt in him. He knew it to the deepest depths of his soul; he knew it was surely as he knew anything else.

Beneath his tongue Darien felt the two puncture wounds in her soft flesh close and seal themselves, the streams of blood no longer flowing.

This small young and innocent mortal – and he knew she was mortal without doubt, her taste, her scent, her heartbeat, everything supported and proved the fact – was his destined soulmate. His wolfmate. This was the woman who could soothe the beast within him, who could bring light and hope to him.

This mortal woman was his one chance at salvation.