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Erianna Ford.
Grenville Hospital. Silvaton Ridge, Colorado. February 14th, 2026. Night. I walk through the hospital corridors, dressed as a doctor. My blue scrubs fit perfectly as I pass oblivious nurses and doctors focused on their work counters, their patient charts, screens, anything but me. The air is stretched thin with silence. That awful sterile silence that always greets people in hospitals. The same silence that greeted me a few months ago, when I woke up in a hospital bed a few miles from here. The memory finds me now, fast and ugly. A memory I try every day to banish. But the thing about ugly memories is that they never leave us. I remember watching my brother kill the man I loved. Ephraim, my mate. The father of my unborn child. I remember the wail ripping out of me, raw and feral, as I tried to run after him. I remember Gerald, my brother, holding me back. His arms firm around my body, after he had killed Ephraim and thrown him over the cliff, so mercilessly. “You killed him! You killed him!” I screamed at my elder brother, my voice loud and broken with pain as I wailed. As I surrendered to the realization that my mate, my love, was gone. “This is your fault, Iris Herewit!” I hurled the words at Iris, my brother’s wife. His Luna. She recoiled at my sharp accusation. Her eyes wide and shaken. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. I kept firing at her with all the pain that had consumed me, with all the hatred she had stirred inside me from the first day she took my first mate. “If you had just stayed with Gerald three years ago, none of this would have happened!” I screamed. “Instead, you stole Patrick from me. And now Ephraim too!” “Erianna… let it go.” Gerald growled, his voice breaking. But I didn’t let it go. I couldn’t let it go. All my venom surged through me, and I let it spill. Then the recollection slammed into me. I had betrayed the pack for my mate. I had stood beside Ephraim and helped carry out a mutiny against my brother, the Alpha. The pack was never going to forgive me. Even if Gerald did, the pack would always judge me. So I tore myself free from my brother’s hold and bolted for the cliff. I didn’t listen to them calling after me. I didn’t stop. I spared them only one final look before I fell off the cliff. Before my body crashed onto the rocks below. I woke up weeks later in a hospital. My head and body were wrapped in bandages and bruises. My eyes were wild, frantic. My hands flew to my womb. There was no movement of my baby. Nothing. “How did I get here?” I asked a nurse, my voice frantic, my body ached as my palms pressed against my stomach. “What happened to my baby? Why can’t I feel him moving?” She looked at me apologetically. “Calm down, Ms. Ford.” She reached for me, holding my hands in hers. “You fell over a cliff and hit your head on several rocks. Some men found you in the water and brought you here while you were still breathing.” She hesitated. “But… Your baby. I’m sorry. You lost your baby.” The words tore something open inside me. I wailed. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. Clutching her hands, trying to hold onto something, anything, before I disappeared completely. I was discharged a few days later. They returned my personal effects: my ID card, my phone or what was left of it and the gold bracelet Ephraim gave me just before we went to attack my brother and his followers. The doctors told me I survived the fall because of my werewolf abilities. But my baby didn’t. Ephraim didn’t. The news reported for days, while I was in hospital that Ephraim's body was found mangled. Too ugly to behold. The words crushed what little was left of me. I walked out of the hospital lifeless. Broken. No one knew I survived. I made sure of it. Not my family. Not my friends. I paid the hospital to keep my identity and my survival a secret. A generous donation sealed their silence. My share of my family’s wealth remained untouched in a secret account. The funds Ephraim set aside for me and our unborn cub still waited for me. But none of it mattered. Nothing mattered without Ephraim. Then something happened. Something that fueled me with life again. Something that gave me purpose. A week after my discharge, I saw them, my family. My mum, Gerald and his wife, Iris, moving forward while I drowned in sorrow. I saw Luke Denvers and Primrose, my brother’s closest friends. I saw the pack laughing, rebuilding, living. While I died inside, day by day. So I forged warriors. My own pack. Werewolves, vampires, witches. Rejects. All of them, creatures of the night cast aside because they didn’t fit into the system. I shaped them into elite warriors. Ruthless and patient. One day, they were going to destroy my brother, his wife Iris, and the entire pack. And I didn’t stop there. I partnered with an unexpected ally. One who also suffered under my brother’s reign. Riley Cordwell, younger brother to Damian Cordwell. Now I walk through the corridors of the neonatal wing, where I was told Baby Denvers was born hours ago. Luke and Primrose Denvers’ baby. Excitement coils through me as I step into the newborn nursery. The sight of infants makes my heart crack. Memory of the unborn cub I lost surges violently inside me. Clawing it's way up my throat. I clench my fists, banishing the pain. Banishing everything else. My heart slams against my ribs as my eyes search through the rows until I find him. “There you are, little one.” I murmur, reaching out with my finger. The baby squirms. A small, quiet gasp escapes his lips as his tiny hands cover his face. I’m about to lift him in my arms, when a familiar presence slips from the shadows. “What took you so long, Boss?” I don’t spare him a look. I pick up the baby carefully, my maternal instincts flaring as I cradle him against my chest. “Shh, Rattle.” I hiss sharply. “You’ll wake him.” Rattle leans closer, watching the baby with open curiosity. “So this is the one who will be the new Alpha after your brother?” He snarls. “The one the goddess has blessed? The one to mate with your unborn niece someday?” “Yes,” I answer, my gaze never leaving the baby. “He’s the one Eliora has chosen. The one to mate with my brother's unborn daughter and rule beside her someday.” I smile darkly. Bitterness curling inside me, hot and violent. Anger and hatred churn inside me as I remember who he belongs to; Primrose and Luke. My enemies. He is meant to rule the pack someday as Alpha. A dream Ephraim carried all his life. He always wanted to be Alpha. A dream stolen from him. Now I will do the stealing. I will snatch everything from Primrose, from Luke, from the pack, from Eliora herself. From Gerald and Iris. From my unborn niece. I’m taking this baby. “Bite him, Rattle.” I hand the baby to him. He hesitates. “What if he dies like the others? None of them survived the bite.” I lift my brow. He’s right. They never survived. Three days at most with their hearts rottening from inside. But this one’s survival doesn’t concern me. The pain of his loved ones does. “Then so be it,” I say, my voice dark. Cold. Detached. “If he dies, we take another cub. If he lives, he becomes my chosen weapon.” Rattle’s eyes widen as he watches me. “He becomes my Ultra Vampire,” I whisper. “An abomination. An ultra hybrid of werewolf and vampire.” The baby doesn’t cry as Rattle’s fangs finally sink into his skin, as blood wells and flows out. Why should he cry? He’s being glamoured.Emerald. Wednesday, 27th January. A week later... Noon. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound cuts through the hospital’s central alarm system, tearing my eyes away from the report I’d been writing moments ago. Every nerve in my body sharpens instantly. “Emergency, Doctor Ford! Cold Blue in cubicle five! Doctor Ford! Cold Blue in cubicle five!” I’m already on my feet before the announcement finishes. My pager screams at my waist. I silence it and bolt out of my office, my steps fast, urgent and instinctive. The moment I enter the ER bay, chaos hits me like a wall. Bodies everywhere. Patients surrounded by doctors and nurses. Elderly men and women, their skin blistered and burned. Some motionless beneath white sheets. Others writhing, convulsing, screaming. Foam spills from mouths. Their limbs thrash. The air is thick with panic and death. “What happened here?” I demand, rushing toward the nearest bed. A man, elderly, thrashes violently. Foam seeps from his mouth as his body spasm
Scar. Saturday, 23rd January. Next day. Morning. The bed rocks as she moves on top of me. Straddling me. Her pussy wet for me. Slick, just as I like it. I slip my fingers between us and part her folds, parting her clit until her cum soaks my fingers, soaks my hard cock buried deep inside her. “Scar… fuck me… yes… just like that…” She cries, louder now. Her mewls fill the room, rocking something deep inside me. I push deeper into her. Push the toy in her ass some more, and she cries out from the delicious pain I know it sends ripping through her. She leans forward, trying to press a kiss to my lips, but I sink my fingers into her hair and yank her back, stopping it. “No kissing the lips. Did you forget, Officer Cassidy Torm?” I groan, voice low. I press a kiss to her neck, graze her skin with my teeth. Her heart rate spikes instantly. I feel it, her pulse racing beneath my lips, throbbing against my mouth. That rhythm stirs something feral and familiar inside me.
Scar Icegard.Brooklyn. Friday, 22nd January.Two days later…Night.Club Crimson screams tonight. Bass pounds through the floor, through the walls, through bone and through blood. Red lights in the club pulse like an open artery. The air is thick with sweat, sex, and iron. Fresh blood drifting through the elite club like incense.I step inside and inhale slowly. Blood. It slides into me like quiet ambrosia. Smooth and addictive. The kind of scent that curls straight into my skull and lights every nerve in me on fire. My fangs ache behind my gums, my vision sharpening as the craving hits hard and fast. I don’t slow down the feeling. I let it burn through me.“You okay, Scar?”Cross’s voice interrupts now, grounding and irritating all at once. I turn my head slightly, eyes already bloodshot from the scent overload. His reaction is instant, he startles, shoulders tensing.I smirk.Without breaking stride, I reach into my leather jacket and pull out a slim metal tube. My gaze never l
Emerald.Tuesday. 19th January.Two days later…Morning.I’m exhausted. My period is here and heavy as usual, dragging my body down with it. Everything feels swollen and slow inside me, like my blood has turned to sludge. I shuffle down the hallway toward the coffee machine, press the button, and wait. The hum and the drip from the machine, all fill me with promise of survival for the rest of my shift.When the mug finally warms my hands, I carry it to the bench and sink down. The first sip burns just right. Heat spreads through me, settling in my chest, loosening something tight inside me. For a moment, I let myself breathe. Then last night claws its way back into me.The dream from last night comes back in sharp fragments. I’ve had it twice now. Two nights in a row. Always the same.In the dream, I have only half of my wolf. She stands before me in the dream, dimmer than she should be, like someone has taken a blade and carved something vital out of her. Her eyes are glossy, red rim
Emerald. Sunday, January 17th. Next day. Morning. “Dawn is at the door. Dawn is at the door.” The voice of the front door alert system, slices straight through my skull. I groan inwardly, dragging myself upright, and squint at the gray morning light bleeding in through the curtains. My body feels like it’s been dragged behind a truck. Every muscle sore, every nerve still humming from yesterday's long shift hours. I’m off today. And tomorrow. Thank God. Tuesday can go fuck itself for now. I yank on joggers and an oversized sweater, twist my dark hair into a messy bun. I inherited dad's hair. Not mum's silver hair. My phone vibrates on the nightstand. Mum. Of course. “Hi, Mum,” I answer, already bracing myself for her words, as I pad toward the front door. “Hi, baby,” she says sweetly and that’s how I know danger is coming. “You promised to call after your shift yesterday.” I punch in the unlock code and open. Dawn steps inside, bundled in her jacket, cheeks pink
Emerald Ford. Present day. Grenville Hospital. Silvaton Ridge, Colorado. Saturday, January 16th, 2055. Twenty nine years later… Morning. My steps are brisk as I crunch on the snow covered ground, trying to shorten the distance between my parking spot and the hospital doors. Cold bites through my boots. My breath escapes in sharp pale plumes, like I’m already running behind my own life. “Late for your shift, Dr. Ford.” Marcell’s teasing voice reaches me from the guard booth at the entrance. He's always teasing. “Don’t remind me, Marcell,” I say hurriedly, extending my ID card. “The chief would eat me alive if he finds out I’m late again this week.” I pull my coat tighter around myself as another breath from me fogs the air. “Punch in, Dr. Ford,” Marcell says loudly to the computer in front of him. “Welcome, Dr. Ford. You’re late again.” The AI’s familiar female voice rings out, crisply and efficiently as always. That sharp, criticizing tone, a daily re







