Chapter 2

Raventon.

To most, it was just another quiet town tucked between woods and forgotten roads. To me, it was something else entirely. Humans and supernatural creatures lived here side by side. The former blissfully unaware, the latter perfectly disguised.

My boots clicked softly up the stairwell, each step quiet, controlled. No one looked at me twice — just the way I liked it. At the end of the hall, I unlocked the door and slipped inside. My coat slid off my shoulders and landed on the hook by the door without a sound. My boots tracked in a thin line of dirt.

I took a few steps toward my room but Ivory was already standing in the living room. Half in shadow, barely lit by the flicker of a streetlamp outside. She stood still, arms loose at her sides, shoulders slightly tense. I hadn’t even made it to my room when her voice sliced through the quiet.

“Where were you?”

She was staring at me, her face a strange mix of shock, frustration and something dangerously close to fear.

“I was out of my mind looking for you. It's past three. I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

I turned my head slowly, keeping my face blank.

“Why?” I asked, my voice cool. “Are you my mother or something?”

“What? No!” she blurted, hands rising instinctively.

“I—I just… I mean, of course not, I…”

I raised a brow, folding my arms lazily across my chest.

“Even most mothers don’t give a damn about their kids,” I said flatly. “So why would you?”

Her voice shot up before she could stop it.

“Because I give a damn, okay?”

She looked away, then back — and I saw it. The frustration in her face softened into something else.

Worry.

“You’re my friend,” she said quietly. “And a few days ago, a freaking monster almost killed you in that forest. I thought—”

Her voice cracked. She shook her head. “I don’t know what I thought. But it scared the hell out of me.”

I didn’t speak right away. My fingers tapped lightly against my sleeve, a habit I’d picked up over the years. My gaze dropped to the floor… then slowly lifted back to her. On the surface, I knew I looked calm. Indifferent. Maybe even a little amused.

But inside?

“A monster?”

"Who could possibly kill a monster like me?"

"They tried to kill me. They thought I wouldn’t survive. But I did. And year after year… they failed."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

"And now it’s impossible."

Out loud, I just laughed — soft, dry, a little dismissive.

She blinked. “Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing,” I said, letting the smile fade into something softer. “Just… no one’s ever cared that much about me before.”

I hesitated.

“Sorry for making you worry.”

She exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for an hour, rubbing her temple as if trying to gather her thoughts.

“It’s okay. Just.. don’t disappear on me again, alright?”

I tilted my head, then shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. Went out for some air.”

Stepping toward the hallway, I threw a glance over my shoulder.

“Anyway, I’m back. You can go sleep now.”

And before she could say anything else, I slipped into my room and closed the door behind me.

She didn’t follow. She stood there, arms folded, staring at the closed door.

“She’s so strange,” she murmured to herself.

“One moment she’s cold and the next, almost warm.”

Her fingers tightened slightly.

“I don’t get her. It’s like… she’s wearing a mask.”

***

The forest was unusually silent tonight. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Reid pushed aside a low branch as he moved through the underbrush, his steps practiced and light. Beside him, Juno followed — her eyes scanning the darkness with quiet precision.

“Why does it always have to be us?” Reid muttered, voice low and annoyed.

Juno sighed, not bothering to hide her frustration.

“I hate patrol duty,” she said. “It always feels like we’re chasing shadows.”

Reid forced a chuckle, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Then—he stopped. His nostrils flared. His expression hardened.

“You smell that?” he asked, voice suddenly serious.

Juno inhaled sharply—then her whole body tensed.

“Human blood,” she hissed. “Fresh.”

They didn’t wait. Both of them took off into the trees, moving like phantoms, their bodies silent but swift. The scent thickened as they drew closer. And then—they saw it. A body, lying at the edge of a clearing, limp, twisted, lifeless. Blood soaked the earth beneath him. A dark smear ran down his torn shirt. His skin was pale and cooling fast.

Juno stopped first, her boots sliding in the wet dirt. Reid dropped to his knees beside the corpse, fingers brushing the man’s throat.

“He’s dead,” he said grimly.

“F**k,” Juno breathed. “We need to inform the Alpha. Right now.”

Reid’s eyes narrowed. He leaned in closer, pulling back the collar to examine the wound.

“F**king bloodsuckers,” he growled. “They did this.”

Juno hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Look at his neck.” Reid pointed. “Those are vampire marks. Fang marks.”

But Juno’s gaze travelled lower—her brows furrowed.

“What about… these?”

Across the man’s chest, deep claw marks ripped through flesh and muscle. Brutal, messy. Unlike the precision of vampire fangs.

“These look like werewolf claws,” she said, her voice tight. “Why would a vampire do that?”

Reid stood slowly, fists clenched.

“Because they want to start something,” he muttered.

“They’re framing us. Trying to make it look like we did this.”

Juno’s breath caught in her throat. “This is bad. If the humans find out—”

“They won’t,” Reid cut in. “But our Alpha needs to see this. Now.”

Without another word, they vanished into the trees — two shadows swallowed by the night, racing toward their pack's borders with a storm in their wake.

***

Inside the cold marble foyer of the Clan Nightreign stronghold, three vampires stood in tight formation beneath a burning chandelier of silver fire.

Lord Asher, sharp-featured and dressed in black, stood quietly at the center with his arms crossed and a thoughtful look in his eyes. Ian stood to his right, calm and quiet as always. Nearby, Nolan paced slowly, his hands tightening now and then, frustration clear on his face. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the hall. Nolan stopped before Asher.

“A body was discovered tonight,” he said. “In Duskwyn Hollow.”

Asher’s eyes narrowed.

Ian spoke before he could. “Duskwyn Hollow? Isn’t that bordering Blackthorn Pack’s territory?”

“It is,” Asher said calmly. “Which means it’s their problem, not ours.”

But Nolan didn’t blink.

“Sire,” he said, “the body’s throat had fang marks. Vampire marks. Clear ones.”

A sharp silence cut through the room.

“But the rest of the body…” Nolan added, his voice lower now. “Deep claw marks. Savage. Precise.”

Asher’s demeanour shattered.

“Werewolves,” he hissed, voice venomous.

“They’re framing us.”

Ian’s expression darkened.

“Typical mutts,” Asher growled. “Slaughtering one of their own, then painting it with our signature. As if we wouldn’t notice.”

He turned sharply. “Ian!”

“Yes, Sire,” Ian replied, instantly alert.

“Summon the council. Inform the elders of the Umbra Court. We will not let this slide.”

Ian bowed and disappeared down the hall. Asher remained still for a moment, the weight of centuries in his silence. Then he spoke again, voice low but thunderous:

“If the wolves want a game...”

A slow smile curled at his lips.

“Then let’s show them how we play."