All Chapters of First Bite: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Rain dripped steadily from the aged stone facade of the old church, pooling in the crevices of the worn steps, while its boarded windows seemed to weep, cracked panes revealing shadows within. The Mirabella chapel had stood abandoned for decades, its doors sealed since the death of her grandmother, a loss the family had chosen to bury in silence. Yet it was the Book that had guided her to this solemn place.  In the dead of night, it had stirred to life, pages flipping as if possessed, a soft glow illuminating the edges that beckoned to her. Autumn had followed its beckoning across fog-laden roads, through the whispers of slumbering spirits, until she arrived at this hallowed ground. Upon entering, Autumn found the air stale and dry, preserved as if enchanted. Dust danced in the faint light that flickered from the

Autumn lay awake in her dimly lit bedroom, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time her eyelids fluttered shut, a chilling breeze seemed to sweep through the room, caressing her skin and echoing her name in whispers. But these were not the comforting tones of friends or the tender inflections of Tristan's voice, the way he spoke when he thought she was still unaware of his attentive observations. No, this was something far darker—possessive, almost sinister, like a longing that asserted ownership, leaving a heavy unease in her chest.To combat the encroaching dread, she had taken to keeping the Book at the foot of her bed. It was restrained by a heavy chain forged from iron and surrounded by a protective border of black salt, a makeshift barrier against whatever dark forces threatened her. Beneath her pillow rested a dagger, its blade glinting ominously in the moonlight. Tristan had voiced his disapproval—concern etched across his features—but he had refrained from arguing. He unders

The Mirabella library was steeped in a rich aroma of well-worn leather and hidden mysteries, its ancient shelves lined with tomes that whispered secrets of ages past. Autumn paced restlessly before the grand hearth, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows across her features, illuminating the pages of the Book of the Veilwalker. The sigil emblazoned in silver on the open page pulsed gently with a faint light, almost as if it were alive, its allure anchoring her attention like a siren's call. Tristan lingered in the archway, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brow furrowed as he observed her without uttering a word. Since the Hollow had ensnared her, his silence had deepened, especially after she started to recount dreams filled with memories of herself possessing ghostly white eyes that sent shivers down her spine.  “You haven’t eaten anything

The storm descended upon Mirabella Estate with an unsettling abruptness, disrupting the illusion of peace that had blanketed the serene surroundings. One moment, the sky was an endless expanse of tranquil blue, a serene canvas unmarred by the specter of chaos; the next, a spine-chilling sound sliced through the air like a knife—a crackling, as though thick paper were being mercilessly torn apart in the vast void above. And then, as if summoned by some dark sorcery, it erupted forth. A gaping chasm cleaved the earth behind the beautiful estate, ripping through the once-placid landscape like a wound that refused to heal. This was no ordinary gateway, not merely a veil concealing some hidden verity. No, it was a gaping maw, an insatiable abyss eager for the consumption of all that lay before it.

The attack came at twilight.The air still smelled of salt and ash from their descent when the fracture tore open. A ripple of glassy darkness spread across the clearing near the old well. The Veil itself hissed as it split—bleeding shadow.From it, the second beast emerged.Larger than the Devourer.Sharper.Aware.It didn’t howl.It stalked.Its eyes burned like twin embers, low and deliberate, fixed on them as if it had been waiting.Tristan’s blade was already in his hand, silver singing as it cut through the dusk. He lunged, a precise strike meant to end the fight before it began—but the Hollow creature slid aside with impossible grace, wings of shadow unfurling in its wake. The ground itself recoiled under its movement.It circled them, low and silent, and the shadows bent like hunting dogs at its command.“Get back!” Tristan barked, his voice ragged with urgency.But Autumn didn’t move.She didn’t summon the Book.She didn’t lift the dagger at her belt.She only stepped forward