Bloodline Eclipse

Ella's POV

  “I always knew the night would kill me. I just didn’t expect it to have fangs .”

The alley smells like damp concrete and rot . I clutch the trash bag tighter , my knuckles white. Every instinct screams run , but my legs are glued to the spot .

“Give us the girl, and nobody has to die tonight ,” the tallest one hisses , stepping out of the shadows like he owns the alley .

I grit my teeth . “There’s no girl here. Just me. I’m literally taking out garbage. Move.”

A laugh, low and dripping with menace , slithers through the darkness . “You smell brand new,” the second one says . “Like dessert that just learned it’s edible .”

I glance over my shoulder at the faint streetlight above the diner . My heart is hammering so loud I swear they can hear it . “Back off,” I snap, voice shaking but stubborn. “I have pepper spray .”

“Pepper spray,” the third one mocks, circling me like a predator savoring its prey. “Cute. Hold her.”

Hands grab my arms from behind, cold and iron-strong . I scream, kicking, flailing , trash bag flying everywhere . The leader leans in, breath rank and coppery , his fangs hovering over my throat .

“Easy, sweetheart. This will only hurt until you stop breathing.”

His fangs are one inch from my skin when everything explodes.

A shadow slams into him . Hard. Brutal . His head hits the brick wall with a sickening crack. I stumble back , heart leaping out of my chest, as a long blade swings through the air . Two heads roll across the concrete like bowling balls .

The third vampire snarls and lunges . The stranger catches him midair , slams him against the wall , drives something silver straight through his . He drops like a puppet with cut strings .

Silence. Except my ragged breathing and the wet drip of blood hitting concrete .

The stranger turns. Tall, black hoodie , silver eyes that seem to cut straight through me . Blood splattered across his jaw like war paint .

“You okay ?” His voice is low, rough , like he’s not used to speaking .

I stare at the three headless bodies . “Define okay .”

He steps closer. “Let me see your neck.”

I jerk back. “Touch me and you join them.”

“Neck. Now.” His hands raise, calm, precise, the blade still dripping.

I tilt my head before I can think. His fingers brush my skin — gentle, clinical. No bite marks. Relief flickers across his face for half a second .

“You’re clean,” he mutters . “Lucky.”

“Lucky?” I laugh, high and cracked. “You just murdered three guys in front of me!”

“They weren’t guys .” He wipes the blade on his jeans . “And they were about to make you dinner .”

I look down at my arm , blood seeping from where one of them grabbed me . He notices at the same time .

“Shit. Hold still.”

His fingers touch mine, and something explodes. Golden lightning shoots through us, bright and crackling like fireworks. I yank back, heart racing, feeling fire crawl up my arm.

“What the hell was that?” I gasp.

He stares at his hand like it betrayed him . “I don’t know .”

“You don’t know?” I laugh nervously. “You just decapitated three vampires and we just…set off fireworks?”

“Keep your voice down,” he growls, eyes flicking to the alley entrance.

“Or what? You’ll chop my head off too?”

“Stop saying stupid shit.” He steps closer, voice dropping . “You shouldn’t be out here alone .”

“Yeah? Tell that to the corpses.”

He almost smiles. Almost. “You always this mouthy after almost dying?”

“Only on Tuesdays ,” I snap, swallowing hard. “Who are you ?”

“Someone who just saved your life. That’s all you get.” He starts to walk away.

“Hey!” I shout after him . “That’s it? You murder three monsters, set my arm on fire, and just leave?”

He doesn’t stop. “Go home. Lock your doors. Don’t come back to this alley .”

I take a step toward him . “And if I don’t ?”

He freezes , then turns slowly, silver eyes narrowing . “Then you die .”

My stomach drops , and I stumble back as the blood on the ground starts to move . I swear it writhes like a living thing , rippling across the concrete toward my sneakers .

“Uh… guy? The blood… it’s moving.”

He freezes, muscles rigid, eyes wide . “Fuck .”

“‘Fuck?’” I repeat, voice rising. “Not helpful!”

He lunges forward , gripping my shoulders hard enough to bruise. “Listen to me carefully. Go home. Don’t stop . Don’t look back . Don’t open the door for anyone . You understand ?”

“What is happening to me?” I whisper, voice cracking.

“I don’t know,” he says , and for the first time, it sounds like it hurts him . “But whatever it is, it just put a target on your back the size of this city .”

His phone buzzes . He glances at it and freezes, jaw tight .

“What is it?” I ask.

He shoves the phone away. “You need to run. Right now.”

“Run where? I don’t even know your name!”

“Adrian.” He starts backing away, shadow already swallowing him. “And you never saw me.”

I blink , and he’s gone . Just…gone.

I stare at the alley , at the blood still crawling toward my feet , the faint golden mark on my wrist tingling like liquid sunlight .

“What the hell is happening to me ?” I whisper .

I spin around, breathing ragged , trying to make sense of it. Every shadow looks alive . Every sound makes me jump. My mind races through possibilities: Vampire gangs? Secret hunters? Some insane hallucination?

The alley seems smaller now, oppressive . The diner lights flicker , and for a second , I see shapes moving in the darkness, just at the edges of my vision. I blink. Nothing .

I pick up the trash bag. It’s heavy and wet with my own blood. My arm stings , golden mark glowing faintly . I shiver, goosebumps prickling every inch of me .

A whisper of movement behind me . My heart stops .

“I said don’t look back!”

I spin, but the alley is empty . I step backward, stumble , catch myself on the dumpster . Something shifts on the wall—a shadow that moves against logic, stretching toward me.

I scream. “No. No. Not happening. Not tonight.”

The wind picks up , carrying a faint whisper I swear is saying my name . “E…Ella…”

I whirl, clutching my arm . The golden mark burns hotter . Sparks like miniature lightning arc off my skin. I stagger backward , tripping over debris, hitting the ground hard . Pain shoots through me, not just from the fall ; something deeper , something wrong.

I glance at my wrist. The mark is pulsing. Alive. Watching me.

Footsteps. Heavy, deliberate. I freeze.

“Ella Nightbourne,” a voice hisses from the shadows. Different from Adrian’s. Older, crueler. “You thought you could hide?”

I scramble to my feet. “I...I’m not who you want!”

“Doesn’t matter,” it spits. “You’re mine now .”

Two new shadows peel away from the wall , taller , fangs longer, eyes glowing crimson .

My wrist burns. Golden sparks spit off my skin, crackling against the concrete. The new vampires actually pause.

“What the hell…” I breathe , staring at my hand like it belongs to someone else .

The golden mark flares so bright it lights the whole alley .

And from the darkness, Adrian’s voice, furious and terrified :

“Ella, RUN!”

I run.