Apparently updating once a month is the best I can do. I'm sorry that it takes so long, but due to my perfectionism, it takes me an eternity to write anything I actually want to publish...
In this chapter we are going to have a little more action, hope you'll enjoy!

Edit: Did a change to Wolfie's clock. Originally there was a reason it was silver but I realized it wouldn't work as well as I thought

Chapter 3

Wolfie sat on his bed, staring at the opposite wall, waiting. The clock on his bedside table was slowly ticking, telling him that dawn was close. Tick tock, tick tock, Wolfie counted seconds, minutes... until he silently got up and walked to the window. He pulled aside the curtains and saw a glimpse of orange in the sky, just above the treetops. Ingrid and Count Dracula were gone.

Slowly, Wolfie reached the door and sneaked into the corridor. For a second he stopped to listen carefully. The whole building was now silent. He was alone. Wolfie swallowed hard and tiptoed to the staircase, knowing that he couldn't back down. During the whole trip down to the Mirror room, his heart was bounding against his ribs so fast he feared it would give him away. He watched his every step until he finally reached the Mirror room. For a moment he hesitated with his hand on the door, but eventually he took a deep breath and stepped in.

The room was enlightened by the dancing flames of the candelabrums that casted shadows on the rocky walls. The Mirror was standing in its place, like any mirror would. It didn't seem like a piece of furniture that changed lives. Wolfie closed the door behind him and approached the Mirror. He didn't stop to gather his courage, but he did close his eyes while taking the last steps. When he knew he was standing right in front of the Blood Mirror, he swallowed once more and slowly opened his eyes. When he did so, he had to slam a hand on his mouth to hold back a scream. What he saw in the Mirror was no longer a dog. It was a wolf. A bear-sized, pitch-black wolf that was staring at him with its bright amber eyes.

Slowly, eyes fixed on that majestic creature, Wolfie took his hand off his mouth and reached towards the Mirror with his fingers. He was stunned by the gorgeousness of his reflection. The wolf stood still and looked at him carefully. Wolfie's fingertips were almost touching the surface of the Blood Mirror when suddenly the wolf uttered a warning growl. Wolfie pulled his hand quickly back and his gaze hurtled to the door. But there was no one there, it was only Wolfie and his reflection. As the young cross-breed turned his gaze back to the Mirror, his eyes widened. The wolf had taken a few steps back, gathered its weight to its back legs and was seemingly prepared to jump. Suddenly, Wolfie was petrified. His every cell was paralyzed and he was completely unable to do anything but stare at the reflection.

When Wolfie finally got control over his body, the wolf let out a deep growl and jumped towards him. The young cross-breed managed to take a step backwards, but it was too late for him to run. The wolf's paws broke through the Mirror and suddenly the gigantic creature was in the room. Wolfie tried to stumble away, knowing it was useless as the wolf stretched it's claws towards him. And as they sank in his chest, Wolfie lost his balance and felt his back hit the floor. He let out a smothered scream as a wave of pain shook his body for a split second. Then, suddenly, it was all gone.

Wolfie blinked his eyes and stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. There was a burning sensation inside him as he carefully crawled back to his feet and looked down at his chest. There were neither wounds nor blood on him. The wolf hadn't harmed him, it had gone inside him, turned part of him. Wolfie took a few trembling steps towards the Mirror to see his reflection. Oddly enough, the wolf was gone and all he saw was himself. Although this 'himself' was very different from what Wolfie actually was. It had nothing to do with what he was now.

The man looking back at him was tall and muscular. He looked more mature than Wolfie did, in fact a perfect young adult. His dark hair was standing up in spikes and the look in his green eyes was amused. As Wolfie looked at his new reflection, wondering if that was now what he looked like, it crossed the arms on its chest and smiled. Wolfie felt the colour escape from his face. The reflection shook its head and its grin widened.

"Oh Wolfie-boy, did you forget about me?" it asked with a voice so cold that Wolfie shivered. The young man stepped back and the reflection followed him, step by step, until suddenly it was on the wrong side of the Mirror's surface. Wolfie could only stare as the reflection bursted into a cold, dead laugh. "I'm so disappointed Wolfie!", it continued. "I thought you knew you'd have two reflections. I know it doesn't compare to the Chosen One's thousand ones, but let's see what we can do with you, shall we?"

Wolfie felt a cold breeze caress his face as the reflection closed the gap between them and raised his hand to touch Wolfie's cheek. Its cold smile and the flash of fangs was the last thing Wolfie saw before the cold embraced him and all went black.

"Vladdy I'm back!" the voice of his father awoke Vlad from his thoughts. No matter Vlad was now the leader of the vampire world, his father still referred to him with the same pet name. The Grand High vampire glanced down at his father with a non-caring expression on his face. Count Dracula stood at the bottom of the short stairs, leading up to the podium of Vlad's throne.

"Oh. Right. Hooray", he mumbled. Fleance clearing his throat made him straighten himself and glance at the advisor. Fleance nodded almost imperceptibly without looking directly at Vlad. The Grand High vampire turned back to face his father. "How were things back at Garside Grange? Was everything okay?" He could see from the Count's face that the older vampire didn't appreciate the question.

"Fine. Everything was just fine", Count Dracula answered. Vlad stared at him with a piercing leer.

"Nothing out of place?" he asked. "Nothing at all? You didn't notice strangeness of any kind?" Count Dracula shook his head impatiently.

"No, Vladimir. Like I said, everything was just fine."

"How about Wolfie and Renfield? How were they?" Vlad tried in vain, nervously fingering the hourglass. His father didn't seem to be willing to discuss the matter.

"They were perfectly fine. I can't see the reason for you to be so worried", Count Dracula said on an irritated tone. Vlad sighed deeply.

"Understood. Thank you dad. You can go", he said showing his father the door. A discontent expression shaded Count Dracula's face, but he zoomed off after bowing his head respectfully. Vlad collapsed back against the back of the throne. "Well, that was somewhat unhelpful", he muttered. Fleance shifted and corrected his perfect posture.

"I think he really didn't notice anything, your Highness", the advisor said, staring right in front of him.

"He hardly goes to Garside Grange anymore. He may not be the most trustworthy source, if I may say so." Vlad massaged his temples and closed his eyes tiredly.

"You might be right, Fleance", he admitted. "Maybe I should pay a visit myself." Fleance gave him an unconvinced look which Vlad was unable to see from behind his eyelids.

"That may not be the safest possibility, your Highness", Fleance carefully stated, as if considering his every word. "Maybe... if you can send someone to see if everything is fine down there. To talk to someone. Just to be sure." Vlad opened his eyes and got up. Fleance's gaze followed the Grand High vampire as he descended the stairs.

"I need some rest, Fleance. Let's talk about this later", Vlad mumbled tiredly. "Take care for a second, will you?" With that he disappeared, leaving the advisor alone in the throne room looking at the precise spot he had been standing just a second earlier.

The room was dark when Wolfie finally came back to his senses. The candles had died out and the closed door didn't let in even the tiniest beam of light. The humidity of the floor had stuck to his shirt and he had a terrible headache. Carefully, Wolfie got up and pulled the wet shirt over his head. Without even glancing at the Blood Mirror he reached the door and pushed it open, sneaking back to the enlightened corridor. The door closed behind him and the young man allowed himself to take a deep breath. He stood there for a second, trying understand what had changed. He didn't feel any difference, the burning in his stomach was gone and everything was just like before.

Wolfie stood there trying to figure out what had happened to him, when the sound of a door closing somewhere near caught his attention. He had to get away, back to his room. He had to process this in tranquillity, which was impossible when he feared someone would notice him at any moment. The fear, of course, was illogical since the only person that could possibly see him was Renfield, and the butler was unable to connect a dog to its tail. However, Wolfie ran back to the foyer, up the stairs and through the corridors, stormed into his room and locked himself in. He was leaning against the door when he understood that he wasn't panting. Wolfie slammed a hand on his chest and felt his steady, slow heartbeat. Too calm and too slow heartbeat. His heart was beating, yes, but was almost as if it skipped every other beat.

Wolfie glanced at the mirror hanging on the other side of the room, and hurried in front of it to see if he still had a reflection. As the matter of fact he did, but it was slightly transparent and definitely not what he had seen before he left for the Mirror Room. Wolfie's jaw dropped as he stared at his shirtless self.

The young man staring back was exactly the same that had been the last one to exit the Blood Mirror. Broat-shouldered, muscular yet graceful. The roundness of his face was gone and the adultlike features along with that dark, spiky hair made him look somewhat rebel. The young cross-breed reclined closer and opened his mouth, flashing his sharp fangs and hissing quietly.

Wolfie straightened himself and stared at the mirror. How was he ever going to pretend he handn't looked in the Mirror? He had a six-pack, for bats sake! Wolfie took a couple of confused steps backwards and collapsed on his bed. His gaze travelled to Ingrid's present he had left on the sheet. Wolfie stretched his hand and grabbed it. He untied the bow and ripped off the paper, unveiling a small, black box. Carefully, he opened it and what he saw, took his breath away for the thousandth time that day: it was a clock, made of white gold and platinum, stringed in a chain which was so delicate that looked liquid. It was beautiful, but Wolfie saw immediately that there was something wrong with this clock. The hands were moving backwards. He had no idea what it meant, but he didn't have the strength or the will to wonder it right now, so he just pulled the chain over his head and let the clock settle against his bare skin.

Wolfie was watching how little lights danced on the chain and the clock's glass when he realised the room was bathing in sunlight. The curtains were open, allowing the sun to cast its rays directly into Wolfie's room. And the young cross-breed was sitting on his bed, embraced by the light. The light his half-brother, Vladimir Dracula, the Chosen One, hadn't been able to see since his sixteenth birthday. Wolfie stood on his feet and walked to the window, pushed it open and inhaled the fresh morning air, enjoying the warmth of the sun kissing his chest. For a moment he forgot everything and focused on the calm sensation inside him. The moment of tranquillity was soon forgotten as Wolfie came aware of a new growing sensation. He opened his eyes and looked down in the yard, feeling his mouth getting dry and throat husky. The strangeness of the feeling was soon erased by the knowledge of what that feeling was. When Wolfie understood what it meant, an uncomfortable wave of sudden fear washed over him.

He was thirsty.