CHAPTER 235: FIRST BLOOD

The alley was a narrow vein of shadow carved through the heart of the city, where even lantern light dared not linger.

Damp clung to the stone walls, carrying the stench of rot and stale water. Every sound—water dripping, rats scratching—seemed to echo with unnatural weight.

A woman in a plain brown gown hurried down the cobblestones, a bundle of vegetables clutched tightly in her arms. She had only meant to visit a friend and collect her week’s share, but she now regretted the detour through this wretched part of town.

Her bare head was uncovered, her dark hair pinned back simply, and she walked with forced composure, chin high, as if daring the shadows not to touch her. Yet her knuckles whitened on the cloth sack, betraying her unease.

The weather was just as bad as it began to drizzle down lightly enough to make a cold chill set in.

Yet beyond that she could feel it—the prickle of a gaze boring into her back. Someone was following her.

Her pace quickened.

Behind her, a hooded figure moved with deliberate silence, their footsteps steady, their presence oppressive. They did not hurry, yet each sound brought them closer, the rhythm echoing like a predator’s heartbeat.

She cast a glance over her shoulder. A shape in a hood—dark, faceless, gliding closer. Her lips parted, a nervous laugh rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down. She would not give them her fear.

It must be a vampire. Who else lurked in alleys after dark, silent as smoke, relentless as the grave?

Especially the poor or depraved ones who couldn’t afford to buy blood from the blood bank.

’I was foolish! I should have none better!Mother is going to be mad at me when she hears this...’ She swore to herself as she tried not to panic.

No. She would not panic. Not yet.

Her grip tightened on her vegetables, and she pressed forward, steps quick but controlled, as though she still commanded her own fate. For a heartbeat, she dared to think she could escape, that the figure behind her was nothing but another person headed their own way.

But the next moment something changed...

The the sound shifted—sound of quickened steps echoed behind her and she reacted: she couldn’t help it.

She broke.

The woman bolted, skirts flying, vegetables bouncing against her hip as she fled. Her breath tore from her chest in ragged gasps, the stones striking hard beneath her thin shoes. Terror drove her forward, her only thought to outpace the shadow that stalked her.

But the hooded figure was just a bit faster, their pace laced with a hint of desperation.

They closed the distance with terrifying ease, their speed inhuman. A hand seized her shoulder, yanking her back with brutal force. The vegetables tumbled from her grasp, spilling into the filth as she slammed against the wall. Her scream pierced the night, raw and desperate.

Teeth found her neck.

The bite was savage, tearing flesh, spilling blood in a hot spray down her gown. Her cry fractured into a choking gurgle. The hooded figure clung to her, drinking deeply, lips fastened to her throat. Blood ran in rivers down her chest, pooling around the sack of fallen vegetables.

She clawed at her attacker’s cloak, nails scraping, but the predator did not relent. They drank until her body jerked in convulsions, until her eyes widened in terror and then dulled into emptiness.

The alley fell silent.

The attacker lingered at the wound, sucking the last dregs of life until the woman sagged limply against the wall, her sack of vegetables scattered like offerings at her feet. Only then did the predator draw back, gasping as though surfacing from drowning.

In the struggle, the hood had slipped.

A spill of fiery red hair tumbled into the moonlight, catching its silver glow. The face revealed was not monstrous, not vampiric. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips smeared crimson with stolen blood, but her eyes—wide, brown, undeniably human—belied what she had just done.

Not a vampire.

A woman.

She stared at her blood-soaked hands, chest heaving with exhilaration and horror. The hunger that had driven her was ebbing now, leaving behind a gnawing dread—and beneath it, an intoxicating thrill that shamed her.

"Damn it," she whispered hoarsely, voice cracking.

She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her hooded coat, smearing the blood further, and pulled the hood up again with trembling hands. One last glance at the lifeless body—gown soaked crimson, vegetables scattered uselessly on the cobbles—made her shiver.

Then she turned and fled, vanishing into the dark, the copper taste still on her tongue.

****

By the time Liora got home and back to her room, her bodyguards knowing better than to ask questions; she was retching in the bathroom almost like she was trying to spill out her intestines themselves.

It didn’t help that her body felt better than it had in days, even as her mind recalled the blood and how she had tasted nothing sweeter in her life.

She had killed vampires before yet the memory of the young girl lying dead haunted her as she squeezed her hands right aware of what she had done.

"It’s not my fault!" She mumbled under her breath as she tried to wipe away the memory in her mind.

Mumbling to herself as she continued to speak, "Who told her to go out so late at night? If I didn’t kill her someone else could have done it!"

It was the only way to stop herself from shaking as she went over it over and over again in her mind.

"It’s not my fault! It’s not my fault!" She screamed to herself even as she touched her chest where her heart was supposed to be reprieved to find it still racing and beating.

It didn’t matter too though since Vampires had racing hearts too, they just didn’t need their hearts to survive like humans did.

She had just scrambled to her feet her hands still balled into fists when she roared in anger sweeping every thing she used to bath from cloth wipes to soaps all to the ground.

Eyes red wanting to destroy everything she could get her hands on but all that was there was the tub as she wiped her mouth again and headed out towards the room.

Standing there in the center with a lost expression on her face that showed the struggle that she was roaring throug her mind.

"It’s not my fault!" She muttered under her breath again even as she listened to the silence all around her and within her.

Behind it was a deep anger she couldn’t push away.

She had been given money and a huge house but she alone lived in it. Her sister, only remaining relative was stuck with a mad man and she herself was clearly becoming a monster.

"It’s not my fault! It’s not!" She began to scream racing her voice knowing that it wouldn’t matter. Only the guards would hear her and they didn’t matter.

’If father and brother aren’t dead, if our village wasn’t attacked if Aira wasn’t captured and their mother...’

"It’s all his fault!" She flared up screaming as she ground her nails deep into the balls of her hands as she spoke.

Tears theatening to spill down her face, as she focused solely on Zyren who had been the one to practically destroy her family.

Yet he was king... yet he was king while she was suffering.

"It’s his fault!" Whatever revenge she had been vaguely compiling in her mind was nothing compared to what she began to think of.

Not borthering to wash herself, she picked up a fresh coat aware that the black gown she wore would hide whatever blood stains cling to her body.

Even as she covered her head and headed back out, realizing that it was high time she began to use all the forces she could think of to her advantage even if it meant colluding with the shape shifting monsters that were slowly eroding society as they knew it.

********

"Another ten were found dead this morning! Eaten completely! I’m guessing the monsters thought they were useless compared to the people they were already mascurading as!" Falson the council memeber in charge of spy’s spoke with his head lowered even as he made sure not to meet the eye of the king.

It was clear that Jared was beyond pissed and the only reason that was keeping him from lashing out was because he was still clearly seated in his seats with all the council members and family heads there.

Doing his best to maintain an element of control where there clearly appeared to be none.

"We need a way to fish out the shape shifting monsters or we’re ruined!" Kannedy aded and Falson visibly flinched before anyone else knowing as well as anyone else that Kannedy should not have made such a mistake.