Chapter 1 - Blood In The City

Beatrice’s POV

My first day in Germany and Berlin was supposed to be about art and adventure. Instead, it turned into a nightmare of blood and fangs. I opened the VIP door and Angelica was gone, blood staining the floor where she once stood.

I tried to save her, but I couldn’t.

Guilt crushed me, suffocating every thought as the horror of what I’d failed to stop sank in.

And then, a voice whispered in my ear, “You’re next.”

I’ll tell you more about this in a little while—just follow me into the car first. My flight was delayed, and I’m already running late.

I climb into a waiting transfer taxi, heading straight toward my new home the Giraffe, an apartment complex towering over Berlin, promising spectacular views and a fresh start.

Berlin smells chilly and unfamiliar. I can’t quite place the scent, it’s crisp, yet carries a hint of something else. Something metallic?

The houses catch my eye with their red-tiled roofs and cheerful yellow facades through the car window.

Despite the sprawling concrete jungle, the city has quite an impressive amount of greenery, with trees lining the streets and parks breaking up the urban expanse.

When the taxi drops me off, I notice an old phone booth nearby. Its transparent glass walls reveal a bulky, yellow, retro-style phone inside.

I stand there for a few seconds as my reflection catches my eye.

My long, honey-blonde hair is pulled into a messy bun, and my deep blue eyes look exhausted.

At least I managed to put on some mascara and reapply my lip liner and pink lip gloss in the airport restroom before I left.

I didn’t want to look like too much of a hot mess on my first day.

It would have to do for now. I probably look drained, but I’m at least holding it together for now.

I drag my suitcase and step inside the building complex.

I now stand in front of the elevator, staring up at the flickering sign that reads “Out of Order.”

“Oh, great! I barely got off the plane in one piece, and now this? The universe is really handing me a lemon!” I mutter, letting out a frustrated sigh.

I glance up at the building number, my heart sinking a little. My room is on the 13th floor.

“How ironic,” I think to myself. Thirteen is known for its bad reputation, and I’m not one to escape its grasp.

Not only am I on the 13th floor, but my apartment number is also 13.

“Great. Just great,” I mutter under my breath.

“Guess I’m not the exception, huh? Damn it,” I sigh, hefting my suitcase up the stairs.

Thirteen floors feel like an eternity, my muscles burning with every step. By the time I reach my apartment, I’m drenched in sweat, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

I fumble for the key, unlocking the door to a clean but empty space. I step inside.

“Why is everything going against me this morning?” I mutter, frustration clear in my voice.

The promise of a furnished apartment had been a lie, of course. Just a way to make it look good in the ad. Furniture shopping, huh? Great. Another daunting task added to my growing list.

I glance at my watch. “Shit! I’m going to be late for my first class!”

In a frantic rush, I toss my suitcase further into the empty apartment, grab my backpack, lock the door, and bolt down the stairs, ignoring the protests from my legs.

A yellow taxi waits at the curb, and I practically throw myself into the back seat, trying to be in time for my class at the Art House Morning Light.

“Kunsthaus Morgenlicht, please,” I pant.

“Guten Morgen, junge Dame!” The driver nods, a sympathetic smile on his face. “First day?”

“Yes. Just hurry, please,” I plead, my voice breathless as I tap my fingers anxiously on my knee while the taxi weaves through traffic.

The Kunsthaus Morgenlicht is a sleek, modern building, its glass facade gleaming under the morning sun.

I notice the two statues flanking the entrance a wolf with citrine eyes and a woman draped in a flowing dress, an owl perched on her shoulder.

Her sapphire gemstone eyes glint back at me, watching over the students passing beneath it.

Who made these? I can’t help but wonder, my eyes scanning the sculptures.

I’ll have to find out later. They really intrigue me.

Inside, I navigate the maze-like hallways, clutching my campus map.

I burst into the stone-cutting class, breathless. “Sorry, my plane was delayed. I’m Beatrice, the exchange student for my last year of art school.”

The instructor, a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard and a tailored light brown suit, looks up from his notes.

His eyes scan me over his glasses.

“Beatrice,” he acknowledges. “Take the seat next to Angelica.”

Relieved, I sink into the seat beside a striking woman with blonde hair, same color as mine, and with an easy smile.

“Hello, I’m Beatrice,” I say shyly. My cheeks are flushed from running, and I can barely focus on the lecture.

Angelica leans over, her easygoing voice a comforting presence. “Hey, you made it!” she whispers in my ear, helping me relax.

Her chatty personality quickly puts my nerves at ease, and by the end of the day, we’re chatting like old friends.

Maybe this isn’t so bad after all?

“Hey, new girl, Beatrix, right?” Angelica asks.

“Beatrice,” my voice softly corrects her.

“Ah, right, Beatrix. Want to come to a cool party tonight? It’s going to be unforgettable!”

Though it isn’t really my thing, I don’t want to seem boring on my first day, so I shrug. “Sure, Angelica. I’d love to.”

She flashes me a confident smile—one that comes with money. Her father is wealthy, and it shows.

I don’t mind, though. I only have a scholarship, which covers my apartment and school fees, but that’s about it.

The rest?

I’d have to find a way to manage and get by.

I’d choose real friends over money any day, even if it was convenient. What mattered to me was who someone was, not what they had.

Maybe I’d have to pick up some odd jobs after school to get by. After all, I still need to eat.

That night, Berlin’s nightlife swallows me whole.

The club is a sensory overload—pulsating lights, throbbing music, and a sea of bodies moving as one.

Angelica has dragged me into this world, but now she’s nowhere to be found.

“Angelica? This is not funny!” Panic rushes through me as I search the crowd. I don’t seem to find her!

The club is a riot of sound and color, the bass thumping through my chest as I just stand there.

Berlin’s underground nightlife is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

I lose myself in the sea of bodies on the dance floor, the music washing over me in waves.

“Angelica?” I call again, my voice swallowed by the music.

“Angelica, where are you?!” my voice fills with genuine worry. I start to panic.

Where is she?

Why did she even leave me here alone?

Then I finally spot the back of her shimmering dress, slipping into a dark corridor, following a man I don’t recognize.

My heart races as I push through the crowd, clawing at my chest.

Where is she going?

Is she crazy?!

Angelica enters a VIP room with an unfamiliar guy.

I gulp down hard; this does not feel right.

Why would she follow a man when she was with me?

Is she dumping me on purpose? I follow, feeling more out of place with each step. I shouldn’t have come here tonight.

I’m becoming more and more uneasy. Why did I even follow through on this stupid idea? I hate parties.

“Angelica, don’t leave me here! I don’t know anyone! Wait!”

Brandon’s POV

At the same time, I spotted her—a honey blonde-haired woman, alone in the crowd. I could even feel her scent all the way to where I stood, it was simply…amazing!

It felt like my muscles were straining underneath the white linen shirt, itching to stretch.

The fabric smelled fresh, newly ironed. Tonight, I was in the mood.

I’d chosen pressed pants, I had to look intimidating before my pack.

I ran my fingers through my dark, tousled hair, feeling the rough texture as I scanned the crowd.

“Luke, beta, do you smell that?” I said through our mind link. “What is she?”

Luke was also dressed sharp today. His light brown hair made him look a bit soft, but I couldn’t help but tease him. Just kidding, he’s a man’s man too, almost an alpha like me.

“I’m not sure, Alpha Brandon,” Luke responded. “She looks ordinary and human.”

“Did you see any disgusting vampires yet?” I asked, my senses sharpening.

“Maybe? I’m not sure. They’re up to something. I can feel it. They’re entering wolf territory more then they should. It’s not like them…”

Luke ran his fingers through his beard out of unease ”…Velan wouldn’t normally allow it, not with the Blood Moon Pact in place.”

“Come on, let’s sniff them out! Follow that girl with that scent. She’s wearing a black cowl dress with spaghetti straps.” I grinned.

“Spaghetti’s for eating, not clothing. You want a bite?” Luke teased me.

I chuckled. “Maybe. But let’s keep an eye on her first.”

I then nodded towards Luke. “Come on, let’s follow her. She looks like a lost sheep. Let’s get her out of here before something bad happens.”

Beatrice’s POV

But it was too late. I opened the VIP door, and my eyes went wide in horror.

Angelica wasn’t messing around with this seemingly ordinary guy—she was unconscious in his grip, bleeding, limp, hanging from his hold by her neck.

He was fawning over her, hovering with a twisted smile, drinking her fresh, young blood.

I froze for a moment, my heart pounding from fright. No, this isn’t how things was supposed to go! I tought as fear gripped me tightly.

I tried to turn and close the door, but hesitation crept in.

I wanted to stop him, to drag Angelica away and call the cops. I could mabe pepper spray the shit out of him and make a run for it?

I reached for my evening clutch balancing on my black stiletto heels.

But the man was unnaturally fast.

He slammed the door behind me, locked it with a sickening finality, and laughed maniacally.

It made me shiver in the most unpleasant way.

With a brutal toss, he discarded Angelica’s body onto the floor, sending her crashing in a heap.

Her blood splattering across the already burgundy leather sofa and the VIP table, originally meant for drinking and karaoke.

A scream tore from my throat, the sound echoing in the room.

His eyes snapped black towards me, fury flashing across his face.

Before I could even think, he grabbed me by the throat, lifting me off the ground.

His grip tightened as he began to choke me.

Brandon’s POV

Outside, Luke and I heard the muffled scream from inside. “Break in the door with me, Luke!” I shouted.

Together, we slammed into the door with everything we had, and it gave way with a violent creak.

The man inside hissed, revealing his fangs as he turned to face us.

Without hesitation, I shifted, my body ripping through the confines of my human form, muscles stretching and bones reshaping in an instant.

I wasn’t fully human anymore—I was a werewolf in beast mode, my senses heightened and strength multiplied.

I let out a deep growl, the sound vibrating in the air, and leaped into the air with a force that sent the vampire reeling.

In one swift motion, I slashed across his throat, my claws cutting through him like a hot knife through scorched skin.

The vampire staggered back, choking, before collapsing to the floor in a grotesque heap, twitching as his life force was drained from him.

The honey blonde woman’s screams echoed in the room, but they were soon interrupted as she collapsed, fainting from the shock and injury.

“Luke, call the pack and clean up this mess. I’ll meet you at the manor,” I ordered, my voice gruff with urgency.

I knelt down, carefully scooping up the unconscious woman in my arms, her limp body pressing tightly against mine.