Vikram stood in the clearing, arms crossed, his senses sharp. The full moon had passed, but its pull still lingered in the air. He turned his gaze to Ahaana, who stood a few feet away, her fists clenched and brows furrowed.
She looked annoyed. Again.
"This is stupid," she muttered. "How is breathing going to help me not turn into a monster?"
"It's not just breathing," Vikram said patiently. "It's focus. Control. Your emotions trigger the transformation. So we start with the basics."
Ahaana let out a groan and dropped onto the grass. "I feel like I'm in a werewolf yoga class."
Vikram couldn't help but laugh. "If it helps, call it 'Fang Flow.'"
She gave him a withering glare, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "You're such a weirdo."
"Maybe," he said, walking over and sitting beside her, "but I'm a weirdo who hasn't killed anyone in a hundred years."
Her smile faded.
"I didn't mean—" he started.
"No, it's fine," she said quickly. "You're right. I need to learn. I *want* to learn. I just… don't know if I can trust myself yet."
"You don't have to trust yourself," Vikram said gently. "Not yet. Just trust *me*."
She looked at him—really looked at him. And for once, she let down her guard.
"I do."
Those two words hung between them like a secret.
---
Over the next week, Vikram trained her every evening. They started with meditation and grounding exercises, then slowly moved to more intense techniques: sensing changes in energy, slowing heart rate, resisting the urge to shift.
Ahaana had never been good at taking instructions. But with Vikram, it was different. He never raised his voice. Never pushed too hard. He simply stood beside her, quietly believing in her, even when she didn't believe in herself.
And each day, she changed.
Bit by bit.
One evening, as they sat under the stars after a particularly exhausting session, Ahaana leaned her head against Vikram's shoulder.
"You know," she said, "if someone told me a few months ago that I'd fall for a vampire, I would've punched them."
Vikram smiled, his voice teasing. "So… you've fallen for me?"
Ahaana rolled her eyes. "Don't get smug. I said '*if*'."
But she didn't move away.
He tilted his head slightly to rest against hers. "For the record… I've fallen too."
Her breath caught.
The night seemed to hold still around them.
She didn't say anything else.
She didn't have to.
---
But while their bond grew stronger, so did the shadows.
Vikram sensed it first—a scent in the wind. Faint, but familiar. *Silver, ash, iron.*
Hunters.
That night, he visited an abandoned chapel deep in the woods—a place vampires once used to hide. He ran his fingers along the crumbling altar, lost in thought.
Then he heard footsteps.
"You've been followed," said a voice behind him.
Vikram turned. A tall, pale vampire stepped from the shadows. His name was Darian—an old acquaintance, one of the few who knew Vikram's real age and story.
"Hunters have returned to the city," Darian said. "They've already begun tracking down anything supernatural. And they're not just looking for vampires."
Vikram's eyes darkened. "Werewolves."
Darian nodded. "One in particular. A new one. Untrained. Wild. She killed two people last full moon."
Vikram's fists clenched. "She didn't mean to. She didn't know what she was."
"Intentions don't matter to hunters," Darian warned. "They smell blood. They'll hunt whoever left the trail."
"Who's leading them?"
Darian hesitated. "A man named Veer."
Vikram's heart stopped.
"Veer?" he echoed, voice tight. "Veer… Ahaana's father?"
Darian raised an eyebrow. "So you *do* know him."
A storm gathered in Vikram's chest.
Ahaana's father was the hunter.
The same man who had raised her in silence, who had ignored her pain, was now hunting the creature she had become—without even knowing it was *his own daughter*.
---
Later that night, Vikram returned to Ahaana's place. She was curled up on the couch, half-asleep, wearing one of his hoodies. She looked peaceful.
He sat beside her, his thoughts spinning.
How could he tell her?
How could he break her heart with the truth?
She stirred slightly, resting her head against his chest. "You okay?" she murmured.
He swallowed. "Yeah. Just tired."
She nodded, drifting back to sleep.
But Vikram couldn't rest.
He knew the next full moon would change everything.
And if they weren't careful, the person coming for them wouldn't be a stranger.
It would be *her own blood*.