Chapter 1 One Night Out

Hazel POV

Five years had passed, and with every slow revolution of the clock, the walls around me tightened like a noose. What my father called protection had become a prison—a constant, stifling reminder that beyond our property lay a world of shadows and teeth. I could no longer recall the last time sunlight had warmed my skin or the wind had tangled my hair as I ran without looking back. The fence that ringed our home had become a physical manifesto of his fear: high, unyielding, and designed to keep me in. I had begged him for freedom, for a sliver of the life I’d known before the darkness, but his refusal was ironclad.

“Danger lurks in every shadow,” he would say, eyes hollowed by memory. I still remember the man he used to be—the one who laughed with me, who let me climb into his lap like a child, who celebrated small, ordinary joys. Now he was a stranger, consumed by duty; he came home late with his gaze fixed on the floor as if the weight of survival bent his shoulders.

It had been five years since the vampires swooped down on our city and tore the peace apart. Father had once been Alpha—respected, tireless in forging a fragile truce between wolves and humans. The vampires’ arrival washed those efforts away like driftwood. They slaughtered many of our kind, took half the city, and set new rules. Even President Cian bent the knee to the Vampire Lord. Humans, wolves—everyone moved to the rhythm of those fangs.

We still mourned Mother. Father had never learned to live with her absence; he had tried to protect me that night and failed to save her. Maybe that’s why he avoided my eyes—because I was a living, breathing testament to what he couldn’t save.

The war between wolves and vampires had ended in an uneasy truce: cross the line and pay with your life. Father’s strictness remained. I hadn’t yet awakened—no fur, no howl—so he insisted I was not strong enough to fend for myself.

Tonight, I decided, everything would be different.

Thud.

At eleven, I dropped down from the fence. I couldn’t blame myself. I felt like a book left to gather dust on the highest shelf—pages stiff with neglect. All I wanted was a single hour outside the walls: to breathe real air and return before anyone noticed.

I hit the ground with a grunt and rubbed at the stinging patch of skin where the fence had kissed me. “Argh,” I muttered, brushing dirt from my jeans and shooting the iron barrier a bitter look. Who built a fence this tall, anyway? It felt absurd—meant either to keep people in or to keep something out. Either way, it had become a nuisance I sorely resented.

I spun at the low voice behind me—a dry, amused drawl that sent a pulse of adrenaline through me. “And who the hell jumps down a fence at eleven?” it said.

I startled, an involuntary shout escaping me. The voice chuckled, then softened into a warning. “Keep it down if you don’t want to get yourself killed.”

“Maybe you’re the one planning to kill me,” I snapped, glaring. I craned my neck to get a look. He was tall; his voice had a rumbling depth that crawled along my spine. Relief warmed me when I realized it wasn’t who I feared—Beta Bastet’s son, the gossiping boy who would run to my father if he so much as saw me near the fence.

“You should go,” he said, scanning the empty street like someone expecting trouble. “Surprising you made it out of Alpha Kimberly’s territory alive.”

“Excuse me?” I demanded. “What are you implying?”

“It’s obvious—you’re a thief. Tell me, what did you steal?” His tone balanced on the edge of mockery.

I scoffed. “I didn’t steal a thing. I’m here because my father won’t let me out—because I’m suffocating between those walls.”

“So not a thief, then?” he prodded.

“I’m the alpha’s daughter,” I said, starting to walk. “You don’t want to mess with me.”

“If you walk that way, Lord Ethan’s men will catch you, drain you dry, and dump your corpse at the gate.” His words were casual, but his voice held iron. I hadn’t heard him move, yet suddenly he was at my shoulder.

“Lord Ethan?” My tongue felt thick around the name. The vampire lord’s reputation had been the root of every nightmare: my father’s strictness, my mother’s death, the shreds of my life. “How do you know that? You’re not a vamp—”

His smile stopped me cold. Fangs flashed, sharp and real.

Instinct made my hand dart to the small silver knife in my pocket. “Stay away,” I mouthed, trembling.

He laughed softly. “I see you have your father’s temper.” In a breath, he disarmed me—knocking the knife free and catching it with impossible speed. He moved like lightning, hands gentle when they shouldn’t be.

“My name’s William,” he said, dropping into a calmer tone. “I don’t want trouble, and the last thing I’d do is harm Alpha Kimberly’s daughter.”

“Give me back my knife.” My voice came out brittle.

“Where are you headed? Need company?” he asked.

“Just—give it back!” I snapped.

“Keep your voice down or you’ll get both of us killed.” He peered down the darkened street and cursed softly. Before I could react, he scooped me up and ran. He dropped me at the next corner, chest heaving, eyes urgent.

“If one of our men finds you out here, you’re dead.” His look held no joke.

Tears pricked my eyes. My pulse hammered. Hazel, you should have stayed inside and played chess with Ariella, I scolded myself.

“Please,” I begged. “Take me back. I need to go home.”

“It’s not safe now,” he panted. “They’ll be done in about thirty minutes. You should wait.”

“Thank you, William.” My voice was small. Father had always taught me vampires were cold, made by black magic, demons without compassion. And yet here was one risking himself for me.

Words stalled in my throat when William suddenly crumpled. His body folded to the pavement with a soft thud, unconscious and limp. Panic flared through me as I knelt beside him, fingers frozen over his throat. Then movement at my back—two shadows closing in. Father stood there, rigid with fury, and Beta Bastet’s presence loomed at his side, accusation sharp as a blade.

The street felt too tight, the air too thin. My mind scrambled for an explanation and found none. What have I done? The question thudded harder than my heartbeat as their eyes bore into me, and the night swallowed my answer.