Chapter 4: Traces Of Old Blood

Sora clawed at the cold, mossy stone walls. His palms were hit with violent tremors. The secret passage felt like it was narrowing, crushing his lungs with every step he took. The stench of stale wine and damp earth began to bury the pine scent of Vardan’s blazer wrapped around his body. At the end of the path, a small, rotting wooden door stood slightly ajar, letting moonlight slice through the dark like a vertical blade.

"Fuck, I need to get out now," Sora hissed. He shoved the door with every ounce of strength he had left.

The rusted iron hinges let out a long groan in the dead silence of the night. Sora fell face-first onto the concrete floor of an old warehouse in the arts district. He scrambled up immediately, pulling Vardan’s oversized black blazer tight to hide his ruined white shirt. His breath was still ragged. Every time he moved, the bite mark on his neck throbbed with heat, sending painful electric signals straight to his nerves.

Sora stumbled toward an old sink in the corner of the warehouse. He cranked the iron faucet, letting freezing water drench his deathly pale face. He scrubbed his neck roughly. He wanted that deep red stain gone before anyone laid eyes on it. But the more he rubbed, the sharper and more stinging the ache at the base of his neck became.

"Why won't this mark fade? What the hell did he put into my body?" Sora growled low, staring at his reflection in a cracked mirror. Vardan’s blazer looked completely out of place on him, yet the masculine scent of the fabric somehow quelled the nausea in his gut. Sora hated the fact that he felt slightly steadier because the shifter’s smell still clung so heavily to his skin.

The sound of soft metal scraping came from behind a stack of wooden crates. The hair on Sora’s neck stood up instantly. He had just escaped one predator, and now he felt another pair of eyes zeroing in on him from the shadows of the warehouse.

"Who’s there? Come out or I’ll crack your skull open!" Sora shouted, grabbing an empty glass bottle.

A tall figure in a black tactical suit stepped out of the darkness. He held a modern composite bow with an arrow already notched and taut. Moonlight illuminated his rigid face. It was Elior Vale, the Valente family’s personal enforcer who was supposed to have picked him up hours ago.

"Elior? Thank god you found me," Sora said, lowering the glass bottle.

But Elior didn't lower his bow. Instead, he drew the string back further, aiming directly at Sora’s heart. His eyes narrowed sharply. His nose flared slightly, scenting the air around Sora with visible disgust.

"Don't move, Sora. Stay right there if you value your life," Elior commanded. His voice was ice-cold.

Sora froze. "What are you doing? It’s me, Sora!"

Elior stepped forward, one pace at a time. The silver-tipped arrow was now only inches from Sora’s chest. "I smell a stray dog all over you. It’s so thick it makes me want to gag. You smell like a Kaldreon clan pet."

"I was trapped at a bar, Elior. There was a mess there and I had to survive," Sora countered, trying to defend himself.

"Surviving doesn't mean letting yourself be skinned by them," Elior cut him off harshly. He eyed the black blazer enveloping Sora. The coat was too expensive and the scent too dominant for a student. Elior jerked the tip of his bow toward the collar, forcing Sora’s head back so the deep red bite mark on his neck was fully exposed under the dim warehouse lights.

"You’re wearing a Kaldreon clan mark on your neck, Sora," Elior growled. His jaw tightened with suppressed rage. "Tell me, how many times did that wolf fuck you for his scent to stick to your bones like this? Did you surrender the entire Valente pride just for one night on his desk?"

Sora winced, his face burning with shame and anger. "Watch your mouth, Elior! I didn't have a choice!"

"The choice was to die with honor or live as contaminated scrap," Elior hissed. He tightened his grip on the bowstring. "I should cut your chest open right now to make sure you aren't carrying their filth back to the manor."

The sound of heavy footsteps sprinting across the warehouse roof cut Elior’s sentence short. The man spun around instantly, shifting his aim toward the glass ceiling. Sora collapsed to the floor. His heart raced madly as he saw the bloodlust flash in Elior’s eyes.

"Elior, don't! There’s someone else up there!" Sora screamed.