Bloodborne

Chapter 1: Alaric

On the corner of Main Street, the autumnal sun lilted down through the clouds, projecting a prism of light through the changing leaves. The crisp breeze carried a hint of the coming winter, mirrored by the hues of red and orange that adorned the trees. Collingwood had always been locked in this beautiful dance between untouched nature and the technological growth of humanity.

So, where do I fit in this balance?

The diner was a small, dilapidated thing, but in this town, everything was. Truth be told, this little sandwich cafe felt like the largest place here. The exasperation in my chest finally spilled out. I flicked my wrist, displaying my H. O. L. L. O. The familiar shimmer of light and sound winked into existence, swirling together into an image on my wrist that read four fifty-eight in the afternoon. The local students would be itching for the bell to ring, signaling that classes would let out soon.

It wouldn't surprise me if Mr. Morrison hadn't even noticed me slip out during his lecture. That man was more invested in the subject than any of us, that was for sure. I was willing to bet anything Ryn had likely noticed my absence. I'm sure she'd tell me all about it soon enough, and I had more than enough things on my mind.

I guess this is as good a place as any for an introduction. My name is Alaric Black III. Yes, those Blacks. Please though, call me Lark. Alaric is the kind of name I'd expect an old man to have, not a twenty-one-year-old. And I was caught up in the history of that name. This maddeningly tiny town was dubbed Collingwood. It's a very old and forgotten place. Small isn't even the word, really. Some would say quaint or cozy, but to me, claustrophobic fit the bill. This place clung to me like chains enveloping a cornered animal constantly bound, trying to break free of it all. I glanced down at my device again.

Five pm. If Morrison didn't roll over, class is out. Only a matter of time now...

My H. O. L. L. O. chimed its off-key chirp no more than two minutes later. Glancing at the holographic display suspended in the air of Jazzy's diner, Ryn's text appeared on screen. Then another, and another. I wasn't ready to face her just yet; I was lost in my thoughts, grappling with something I couldn't share, even with her. In one fluid motion, I dismissed the notifications, even though they left a bad taste in my mouth.

To my surprise, one of the notifications was an ad. Nothing unusual, but this one felt different. It was the personalization that threw me. That was new. "Alaric, don't fall behind the future. Let's pull the world out of the past and into tomorrow! One H. O. L. I. at a time. Surgeons are booking appointments for implantation as we speak! It's time to step into the light of purity. H. O. L. I. -- It's Not Just a Device. It's Your Destiny."

I dismissed it, and a few choice words escaped under my breath. Sarah stalked over, balancing a tray on her arm.

"There you are! The Jazzy's Special."

She just had to start working here this summer. It was so inconsiderate. She was making my world feel that much smaller. Without even looking up, I could feel her presence lingering close by longer than I'd have liked. The sound of her footsteps faded into the background, and when I glanced at her retreating form, she produced a smile that lingered uncomfortably before disappearing into the kitchen in the back.

I played along, and when she inevitably returned, I smiled awkwardly back at her. She was a convenience. The cook was her connection, not mine.

My gaze shifted back out the window and onto the quiet, barren intersection. A few leaves on the street rustled lazily in the wind. I didn't want to bother with my food. It wasn't why I was here. Regardless, an uneasiness clung to the lining of my stomach more aggressively today.

I'm sure it was probably the constant dwelling about tonight that had me wound up. It was already 4:05, and I was burning daylight sitting here. The autumn sun was already beginning to wane. I was waiting for the main course, ready to soothe the feeling of dread I couldn't ever quite escape.

Right on cue, Tim, a rather large and burly man, strutted out of the kitchen and threw his apron over his shoulder. Tim was known and well respected. Besides making the best food worth eating in town, he actually helped the community. Mainly checking in on the elderly. Ryn had the biggest crush on the guy back in middle school. It was hard to believe he was only a few years older than us. He winked at me before he made his exit, the bell on the door gently ringing as he went.

No sooner than he left out the door, Sarah was standing at the end of the table again, smiling in my face, "So... Lark. What's your special plans for it tonight?"

"Huh?" I asked, watching as she continued to smile wistfully at me. She got one of her ridiculously long acrylic nails caught in her hair as she twirled it around her finger.

Probably hoping I didn't notice, she threw her hair and hand over her shoulder to rest there before she answered, "Your drinks, silly." She giggled as she slid into the booth facing me. Jazzy's was an excuse not to go home, but she was quickly making me regret that decision. Leaning forward, she dropped her voice so I would follow suit. It seemed pointless because there was no one else in the place, but I leaned in a bit to hear her whisper, "Do you have any special plans? Maybe..." She paused for a moment to lick her lips. It was a slow movement, and I could tell by how her breasts were spilling out of her cream-colored crop top as she pushed them further out onto the table that it was an intentional motion. She was trying to seduce me. "... someone to spend the night with?"

She reached for my arm, but I flinched before she could touch me. I could see in her deep hazel eyes that the action had hurt her. She'd have to get over it. "Yep!" I said as I stretched and leaned back into the booth, "It's October thirtieth. Tonight, Ryn and I are celebrating our twenty-first together." I watched Sarah's smile as it faded, and I could feel mine dissolving from my face as well.

This news didn't deter Sarah, though. Unfortunately for me, she was prepared to double down. "You know, Alaric, I'd always thought that you and I would make the perfect duo. You, a Black, plus me... an Auclair?"

I already knew where this was headed, and I wanted off this train fast. "It's just Lark, Sarah. And they're fucking family names. They don't mean shit." She gasped, and I stifled my annoyance from escaping. I'd dodged this conversation all summer. Somehow, I knew it was coming, but still, I was not prepared or thrilled for that time to come.

She blinked at me and continued, "Oh, come off it. It's in our blood. It's our heritage! I know you've been taught well by that old crone on the hill. She's always spewing out some supernatural history or other to anyone who will listen."

She stood waiting for something that I wasn't giving her. I was not interested in this conversation to begin with, and now my patience was disappearing with my growing irritation. Gran wasn't blood, but she was my family, and I hated how people would talk about her like she was just some crazy person, mouth flying off the handle whenever someone was around.

A slight desperation from my lack of response started showing in her actions. "Don't you see? It's simple destiny, baby. Black and Auclair?" The sultriness returned to her tone, "That's a match destined by the Gods, wouldn't you agree?" She fluttered her eyelashes at me.

I couldn't take it any longer. My restraint had left, "Sarah, I'm not in the mood for this today. You're probably as much Black as I am, and vice versa for Auclair! Werewolves, Vampires, Fae, creatures from sirens to... I don't know. Fuckin sea serpent? What makes us what, huh? Names? And what the hell is that, hm? Just a series of letters. Auclair's? Black's? They can all go fuck themselves for all I care."

She looked me up and down with utter disgust, "Excuse me?"

Fuck.

"No, Sarah, listen. Really listen. History doesn't matter to me. As far as I'm concerned, it's entirely irrelevant!"

Her hazel stare bore into me as she parted her lips to speak, but I cut her off, "There's nothing left in the blood. Nothing meaningful at all. Not even a fraction of what our Ancestors had."

I had some ability, but it wasn't enough to actually mean anything, and it definitely wasn't anyone else's business.

She pouted for a moment before she let a slight smirk slowly splay on her face. Leaning in closer and dropping her tone again, "Regardless of our heritage, you're hot, and I'm hot. Our Ancestors would approve. Can you imagine what our children would look like?" She sighed.

Gross...

"I'm sorry Sarah. You and me? It's not happening. You know I'm with Ryn." She scowled at the words. Her family was full of notoriously shady people, and history told me Sarah was no different.

"Do you know what else?" she continued. There was an odd look in her eyes. Rage with somewhat of a strange glint that hinted at something more. Secrets buried and untold. I leaned in a little bit, now fully intrigued. "I've heard a lot of things about a lot of things. Most recently, about the Blacks. A little birdy hinted to me that you are one of the last Blacks."

Last Black's...?

"Not only are you one of the last, you are the direct--"

She stopped short, her eyes flicking behind me as if someone else had just walked into the room. But we were alone. Her expression twisted for a heartbeat into something between fear and recognition before the smile snapped back into place like a poorly fitted mask.

"You know what?" she laughed, too brightly. "Doesn't matter. Just stupid rumors. You and I? Now that's the real story, Lark."

But something in her tone had changed. Her eyes didn't meet mine again.

The ring of the tiny bell on the door startled Sarah right out of her seat. Tim chuckled, "Little cat and mouse caught in the act? Lark, you pull 'em fast, boy! Don't pretend like I ain't noticed." Sarah scowled at him as she walked away.

Tim pulled the bottles out of his pack, and it hit the table with a satisfying clink. "There she is big man. Now this shit stays between us, yeah? You might be one of us, but the humans don't know the difference, and to them, you're under age."

"Our brains develop quicker than theirs do, so don't give me that underage crap. And they don't even know we exist, Tim." Twice in one sitting, I'm hearing about shit that doesn't even matter anymore.

"Bottom line, kid, you get caught? You don't know me, got it?" He gently knocked his hand on the table twice and then returned to the kitchen.

Sarah returned with a glass and placed it on the table a little too aggressively, the corners of her mouth still downturned in a pout. The clack of her heels on the linoleum echoed in the empty space as she stomped off to the door to turn the open sign off before she, too, retreated to the kitchen. I wasted no time in cracking open a bottle and pouring it. Throwing the glass back with ease, the burn comforted me as it slid down my throat; It rested warm and hot in my stomach.

Sarah glared at me again from behind the counter, and this time, I raised my shot glass to salute her. Her eyes shifted upward in silent frustration before snapping back to mine.

Black's and Auclair's, huh? A match made in hell is more like it.

Once again, Sarah sauntered over to me, "So, twenty-one tonight? You know what that means, don't you?"

"C'mon Sarah... fated mates? True love? It's all shit. Myth. Nothing more." I ran my hand through my sandy brown curls.

"What? You don't believe in our history? Fine. But I'd at least expect you to tell me you'd already found Ryn, and she is your true love."

My jaw clenched so tightly it could've cracked a tooth. "History? Everyone around would gather to celebrate this transition from child to adult. Of course, the purer your blood was, the grander the celebration, with only one key goal: parading your kids around through the clans to find them a mate and form alliances. Fated mates 'gifted' from the Moon Goddess only helped them sell their kids that much more. It was glorified human trafficking, and anyone with brains can read it and realize that." She turned her nose up at me in response.

"Who are you kidding Alaric?!" She snapped. "I know you know the stories. They expand beyond just the werewolves. It is in Fae and Vampire Lore. It's in every bit of lore out there, so it doesn't even matter how mixed we are! She exists! All it takes is a little blood exchange... and a bed." One eyelid dipped briefly, paired with a sly grin that left no doubt about her intentions.

Gods, I haven't seen anyone fight so hard for someone who had zero interest in them. It's two thousand nine hundred and ninety-eight, and still, people cling to medieval fairy tales of love and adventure. You'd think centuries of evolution would fix that.

"Sarah, look. You're... nice and all, but this isn't for me, okay? I'm sure you'll find your person, soul mate or not, but it's not me. I've got Ryn."

Fucking idiot... doesn't... know...

The noise buzzed in and out of my head. The last thought seemed to hover in the air around me, overlapping. The tone was barely distinguishable from my own. It didn't feel like my own at all, anyway. For a minute, it almost sounded like Sarah.

Hmm...

"Are you so certain that it couldn't be? Some love is made over time, and I'm sure you could learn. I have been told I am ridiculously hard not to love." her eyelashes fluttered briefly before she slinked back to the front counter, stealing occasional glances over her shoulder as she went.

A soft chuckle came from the opposite side of the room, making me jump slightly and grabbing hold of my attention.

I could've sworn the place was empty.

The man swaggered over, radiating an air of confidence that was almost comical. More arrogant than anything. He was hard not to notice, and I'm shocked I didn't before. The man was tall, and his features were chiseled to an inhuman perfection. His complexion was so dark it was leaning toward exotic in comparison to ours. Gold markings snake along his body, jagged and geometric in some places, fluid and organic in others like they weren't just tattoos. They were a part of him. They seem almost alive, shifting with his every step. They wrapped around his arms and neck and even brushed the edge of his jawline. He stopped short of the exit.

"Ahh, yes," he mused. "Soulmate! The one that completes you. There's no other bond like it, you know? And when you find your mate, it's for life."

"You too, huh?"

The man brushed back a long jet, black lock of hair, and he let out an exaggerated breath. There were silver streaks in it here and there. What really got me were his eyes. One was a light brown, almost a gold color, and the other was stark blue.

"She's not wrong, though... every type of creature has its practice and beliefs, and when you take a step back and look at them all, it is so very hard to deny the similarities." He tapped on his chin with his long, slender finger, his body already half out the door.

Who the heck is this guy?

"You know," the man continued, his voice deep and smooth, like the hum of distant stars colliding, carrying both an alluring warmth and a razor's edge of cold detachment. "I heard it was weaponized."

"Uhm, weaponized?"

I was so taken aback by the man's appearance that I felt a mile behind the conversation. His hands are adorned with obsidian and onyx rings etched with symbols I wasn't familiar with. This stranger had seemingly come from nowhere, eavesdropping on our conversation, and decided to stick his nose in it. The knot in my stomach only grew. Something was unsettling about his features. I couldn't place it. It was almost as if his structure were too perfect for him to be real.

"Yes!" his strange eyes almost seemed to glow for a second. "It's said that being separated from your mate is agony. Capture and torture were a massive hit back in the day. Whatever pain one experienced, no matter how far, their partner felt it on the other end." The corners of his mouth turned up into an almost imperceivable grin. It was gone just as quickly as it arrived. "Even in death."

What a tool...

The man lingered there at the threshold, only sparing me quick glances as he spoke, "You know, it's for that reason that the Goddess reclaimed her gift."

It was an interesting theory to toss around as a fact and one I'd not heard yet. Definitely not from Gran. "Are you new around here?"

"Nah, friend. Just passing through." With that, he left, his long, tailored black coat billowing like smoke as he exited.

Sarah popped back out of the kitchen and glared at me again from behind the counter. This time, I raised my shot glass to grab her attention fully. "Who was that guy?" I asked, pointing to the door after I set down my glass.

"What guy? It's just your stupid face in here." Her lips were pressed into the tight, thin line.

Was she blind?

"That guy! Strange eyes?" There was no sign of recognition on her face, which made my stomach start to knot. "Covered in tattoos? He was standing right there."

"Are you a little Fae or something Lark? Is a little bit of magic fairy dust in your blood, too? Seeing things others can't now?" Her nose wrinkled as her lips quirked up into a cruel grin.

"Seriously, Sarah, are you a literal child?"

She examined me a little closer now, her brow furrowed. She shrugged, "It has only been you here, Lark. Who else? It's just after five. And it's empty. Dinner rush doesn't pick up until at least six."

"Dude, he was right there! He even came and spoke to me."

Was she daft? Smoking too much before work today?

Her face briefly showed a small amount of concern, but that moment was very fleeting. It was soon replaced with irritation, "Are you playing with me?"

"What? You're the one fucking with me, Sarah!"

"You think I wouldn't notice some other guy in here?"

"I don't know. You are kind of a ditz sometimes..."

Her face was now red with fury as the pain spewed from her mouth, "Or better yet, Lark. You mean to tell me you think that I would go as far as to come onto you with another customer here and then make you believe you were seeing things? To what end?"

That... was a good point.

At my noticeable pause, she continued, "The only thing new around here is that disgusting smell. Maybe get your head checked, dude."

"What smell?" I hid the peak in my curiosity. "It always smells like onions and trash or something. I don't know what, but around this place? Man... Being outside makes you want to gag." The liquor was starting to make my tongue move around lazily with its words.

"No, man. It smells like rotting corpses."

"That's pretty dark, even for you, Sarah."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Shit...

I decided to ignore her, getting the feeling she wanted me to make a quip back. Letting anything else come out of my mouth didn't seem like a great idea at the time. The heat in my ears was a key indicator that my filter was probably very well muted.

After no response from me, Sarah rolled her eyes and walked away.

A Black and an Auclair... not with this Black and Auclair.

My... I couldn't even tell you what number of 'great' it goes in the family tree, but my ancestors were the Alpha and Luna of the great Silver Moon pack. They were the ones who ushered in centuries of peace between the packs. Supposedly. If they were so great, you'd think there would be more of us around. People with the name Black tied to the werewolves, I mean. The Auclair name still lingers like a stain.

"Ahh... love is in the air, is it, Lark?" It was Tim's voice. A smug grin spread across his face, his eyes dancing with mischief as he slid into the booth. "From the look on your face, I'm going to guess that's a no. Sarah got you down, kid?"

"Nah, she wants to tie me down more like," My words came out slightly slurred in places. Tim examined me closely before he picked up my open bottle and shook it slightly. A small burp escaped me, and he waved it away.

"Already, kid?" His smile was gone, and his tone was now flat. Concern was etched on his scruffy face. "This isn't the road to stress relief. What's eating at you?"

"I'm twenty-one tonight, my dude. Call it the last of my dying wistful adolescence."

His expression softened, and the warmth returned to his voice, "Ahhh. I remember twenty-one. Woowee..." He grabbed the bottle and took a quick swig, setting it down with a sharp inhale of breath. "Damn, I forgot how strong that shit was!"

"Yeah, your boys really got the bathtub method down pat now."

His laughter bubbled up first, lingering in his voice as he replied, "They graduated from Donnie's tub a while ago."

"Well, it's much smoother, and the labels look really legit. I honestly couldn't tell the difference between this and the legal standard."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll let them know you approve." Tim, not being one to get distracted easily, steered the conversation back to the matter at hand. "I don't want to talk about methods around the GA's alcohol restriction and neither do you. What's wrong with you kid?"

"The entire situation! Mate. Love. Tried and true. Goddesses and gifts. It all must be bogus, right? So why the hell do I hear about it endlessly?!"

"Well, devil's advocate: what makes you so sure that it's all bogus? There's not even a tiny part of you that thinks maybe it could be real?"

"Sure. As much as I hate to admit it, yes. But everyone dreams and likes to fantasize. I daydream on a reasonably regular basis. Besides, If anything like that had happened, some science would've been behind it. Certain secretions or the releasing of pheromones to attract a mate. Right?"

Tim sat patiently, without contention, waiting for me to continue. I'd expected something from him. What? I'm not sure, but something.

"We used to have abilities. People used to shift."

"Into actual fucking wolves, Tim?"

"All kinds of things."

"Sure, let's say I believe you in that part. You've got to admit, the rest was probably exaggerated due to our supernatural nature in general. The crap that makes little to no sense has got to be bullshit. Right? No one above. Nothing below."

Still, Tim's expression was unreadable.

As he watched me, a silence started creeping in, so I went on, "Okay, even if it is true, all the mate-gifting goddesses up there have no idea what to do with us now. They can't tell whose jurisdiction is whose, more than we can since we were all so muddied together. If anything, they're too busy up there arguing over who gets Mondays."

"Okay then. Have you been experiencing anything odd? Strange behavior? Any changes at all?" Tim's eyes narrowed slightly as if he was ready to weigh the truth of my words.

I shifted in the booth uncomfortably before I hunched over the table slightly. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. Been feeling this strange... urge." One of his eyebrows rose quizzically. Amusement was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"It's hard to explain, but I'll do my best." I glanced around the diner to make sure the space was empty and Sarah's attention was elsewhere. "Constant anxiety, man. Constant. And a feeling that there's something important that I need to do. There's this heaviness sitting on my chest. Not pain, exactly. It's more of a weighted feeling. Plus, the... other urges."

I've been practically insatiable lately.

His smile threatened to break through his façade fully. "And... that's because tonight is just a regular night? That aging up to twenty-one means nothing? Because there have been zero changes in you, and today is just another typical day in the life of a man leaving angsty teenaged adulthood behind, eh?"

"So, you too, huh, Tim?" My gaze shifted skyward to the carelessly plastered ceiling. I paired it with a soft groan of frustration.

"Now, I didn't say I believe it all and eat it up like its scripture, pal. Let's get that straight. But what I will say is that I turned twenty-one once and that shit changes you. No questions about that part for me."

"You aren't the spokesperson for every super on the planet, Tim. Calm down. And where's your lady? I don't see you coupled up."

A faint smile finally broke through Tim's stern demeanor, accompanied by a low chuckle as he scooted out of the booth. "I forgot how funny you are, kid. We should chill more often." I nodded, knowing that it was his goodbye. He paused before pushing open the door. "See you around. And good luck." He gave a quick wink and then left.

My gaze then momentarily settled on Sarah as she hand-dried the dishware for the dinner service, still glaring at me with each sharp movement. There's no way she would be my mate. Complete opposites. What was she even thinking? I shook my head and turned back to the bottle before me.

I poured another drink and downed it, letting the warmth spread and soothe me. Sarah peered around the kitchen door to yell, "Break time! Closing up in five minutes, Black!" Her tone had quickly shifted to the polar opposite of the sultry one she had not even ten minutes prior. I nodded to her. The first bottle was already practically empty, with maybe one or two good ones left in it.

I heard the chime as the fire raced down to my core with another swig, but I ignored it. Was I nervous? Sure, but it was Ryn, and she was comfortable. If I wanted anyone to be my awkward first, it was her. Yes. I'm a virgin. Shut up about it. It was a pact we made when we were younger. We were saving ourselves for our mates. If we don't find them, we'll have each other so we don't go nuts and have more time to find our person. That was the deal. Plus, her family is super religious. Marriage and all that.

How noble of us...

I let a scoff fly out of my mouth at the thought and took one last shot, the bottle as lifeless and bleak as my outlook.

My H. O. L. L. O. chimed again.

Well... it's now or never.

I transferred my credits for my uneaten meal, grabbed my bag, stuffed the other bottle, and snuck out of the deli as quickly as possible. Avoiding another conversation with Sarah was at the top of my to-do list. I grabbed my bike and headed down Main toward Gran's, getting lost in thought along the way.

I used to think this Goddess of ours was just a werewolf thing. I don't know why. Young and ignorant, I guess. Maybe I should've asked more questions. Granny wasn't a werewolf, but she prayed to the Goddess more than anyone I knew.

Stupid.

Did it even apply anymore? Most of us are not lucky enough to develop some ability from our lineage. Again, that was extremely rare and tended to skip a few generations or not come at all. It depends on how mixed you are. How do they even keep track after a while? Submit blood tests to prove that you're the correct percentage of the correct creature to stay in the club? Can I even be considered a werewolf at all at this point? No idea how that crap works, and thinking about it still gives me a headache.

Chapter 2: Raelyn

The country ride through the forest seemed never-ending. Behind, forward, and both sides were lined with trees. Suddenly, that strong, putrid smell hit my nose like a ton of bricks. My eyes started to water, and I almost gagged. I noticed a flash of red from the corner of my eye. It looked like a glow of deep red, but when I turned to look, the light was gone.

Maybe that shit was stronger than I thought.

I was still so lost in thought that I hadn't realized I'd already made it to Granny's. I skidded to a halt, almost missing my stop completely. Her lot is the last one at the end of a dead-end street. To me it had always seemed as if it was removed from time. It echoed the same energy as the rest of Collingwood, though. Abandoned, isolated, and forgotten.

She had always said her family had lived there as long as she could remember, according to Gran, for generations. This was long before most of the houses in town sprang up. The house itself isn't terrible, but like a lot of places around here, it lacks some serious upkeep. I've offered to help her do some renovation here and there. Fixing things? I was good at it. Anything with my hands, really.

She always said, 'Things are just things, so don't waste that precious time when it could be much better spent,' and then threw some kind of reading or training at me. So, it was better spent learning nonsense that didn't even matter I guess. Besides being able to smell better than most people and the introductory amount of spell work I can perform successfully, I've got nothing.

I pull up and park my bike in the back next to my Jeep, where I usually do. I don't do much, which means I don't go anywhere. Usually, when I do, I like to take my bike. Again... It's a small town, and I don't mind exercise.

My H. O. L. L. O. chimed again, this time a GA announcement:

GLOBAL ALLIANCE PUBLIC SAFETY BULLETIN

Issued: 31.10.2998

Security Level: Advisory

CITIZEN SAFETY NOTICE SUBJECT: Pales

Sightings -- Community Safety Protocols

The Global Alliance is committed to maintaining a safe, stable society for all citizens. In recent weeks, there have been confirmed reports of individuals classified as Pales appearing in unrestricted areas.

Pales are individuals who may exhibit signs of genetic irregularities or health concerns requiring immediate attention from certified GA personnel.

Your awareness and cooperation are essential to maintaining community safety. If you witness or suspect a Pale in your area, follow these mandatory safety protocols:

WHAT TO DO IF YOU SEE A PALE:

1. Maintain Distance

Do not approach or attempt to engage. Stay calm and leave at least 15 meters of space between yourself and the individual.

2. Report Immediately

Activate your H. O. L. I. Security Alert by voice command:

"H. O. L. L. O., Report Pale."

If you do not have an active H. O. L. L. O device, proceed immediately to the nearest Public Access Terminal and submit a report.

3. Follow Authority Instructions

Once a report is filed, remain in the area if safe to do so. Trained Response Teams will arrive shortly. Follow all directions provided by onsite personnel.

4. Do Not Intervene

GA teams are equipped to handle these situations with minimal disruption. Civilian interference may lead to unintended consequences and disciplinary review.

WHY THIS MATTERS:

Pales may be experiencing health emergencies or neurological distress. Swift reporting ensures they receive the care and assessment they require, while keeping all communities safe and orderly.

FOR MORE INFORMATION:

Review Section 4.12 of the GA Civil Safety Handbook on your H. O. L. L. O. Or visit your local Community Information Hub.

GLOBAL ALLIANCE SECURITY COUNCIL

Protecting Communities. Preserving Peace.

-- End of Bulletin --

Pales?

I dismissed the notification. No Pales around here. Not unchipped, anyway. Think Gran was the only one closest to a Pale in town. Most of them were confined to the more heavily guarded quadrants. Ryn told me a story just last week about how a few got loose in the east. Said they couldn't even speak.

To my surprise or lack thereof, really, I see Ryn waiting at the back door with her arms folded across her chest. Things were quiet for a bit while she glared at me.

"You ditched me! Are you having second thoughts?"

Uh... shit. Second thoughts?

"What about?"

I was excited, wasn't I? This is what I wanted. Right? I should be excited. Ryn and I had never crossed that particular line before, and a strange feeling kept creeping into my gut. I didn't want her to feel pressured about it. If she changed her mind, I'd be cool. I'm not that kind of dude. Was I the one feeling the pressure, though? She seemed just fine all day.

Suddenly realizing she'd said something, I cut in before she could speak, if only to save myself from a horrible rage rant.

"Sorry. I was thinking about that stupid pact we made as kids... about our mates and all."

I laughed, and she smiled. It faltered for a moment, and she turned to look out across the garden somewhat sadly.

"Yeah. I don't know. Part of me still wishes that it would happen to me one day. But we're together now and I don't want to wait for that person forever. I don't want to die a damn virgin, and we promised we'd be each other's firsts. Marriage and mates be damned," she said, and I found myself nodding in agreement. A heavy release escaped her lips before she went on.

"Well, I'll start then! My only worry is that things will be weird for us afterward. What if we like hate it and can't even look at each other again?! You've been my best friend for the longest time, and together since senior year in high school. I don't want to lose that over this."

We both let out a heavy breath simultaneously, as if we both were bearing a burden so great it punched you in the gut. I'm glad I wasn't the only one struggling with this fear of the 'after' on top of the 'I don't have romantic feelings for her' thing. No matter how I tried, they weren't there.

A pregnant pause settled between us before Ryn pepped up her tone.

"But I don't want to think about that. We're aging up tonight, Larky! I wanna get drunk, and I wanna get me some! And you know what the stories say... you go crazy if you don't find your mate or if you haven't mated, right?! We're just doing it out of self-preservation!"

She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows at me. I couldn't help but laugh.

"I mean, you have a point, though, in the first part."

Was it worth throwing away?

"I don't want to ruin what we have, but what if we connect, and it's the best thing ever? But if it's not, and we want to return to everything as it was before, could we?"

Ryn groaned, "Ugh, what are you even talking about?"

"I don't think it would be awkward, but again, I've never been in this situation, and you hear so many fucked up stories about things like this."

"Crazy much? You need to chill."

She's deflecting.

"Great friends who cross a line into lovers. Then they add in the sex. Things go sour, and they never speak to each other again..." I let my voice trail off into the cool night air.

The look on her face told me she'd been dreading this conversation. An imperceivable grimace flashed briefly across it. "Oh, my gods Lark you are so damn dramatic!"

"Whatever, dork." My tongue was starting to feel a little heavier the longer I spoke.

"You drank before you even got home, didn't you?"

"Maybe," I had a feeling the heat in my face was telling a different story.

She leaned in to kiss me and then pulled back with her brows furrowed. "I can taste it on you."

"Yeah, yeah. You're shifting subject. The point is, that would suck if this ruined things. That means I'd have to find new people to talk to. I can't do that!" I joked. Sort of.

She laughed loudly, then expelled a soft breath as she glanced away. Hearing her laugh was a decent sign.

"You know me. I don't exactly make the best conversation. It's the surface of all the small talk. No depth or substance. I can walk outside or just check my H. O. L. L. O. for the weather."

"Oh my. Just marry your phone, why don't you?"

"What in the fuck is a phone?"

"It's what our ancestors used to call their civilian communication devices." She said simply as if it was common knowledge.

"Why phone?"

"I don't know. They were strange, chunky boxes. Point is, you're an antisocial." She finally smiled, and it comforted me to know her stress was easing.

I leaned into her teasing tone. "Hey, jerk. If your best friend is that antisocial, what does that make you?"

She let out a quiet snicker, her shoulders shaking with restrained mirth. "My boyfriend. For two years now, Lark. And you know what? That's pretty harsh. I prefer introvert, thank you."

I wrapped my arms around her and put a gentle peck on the top of her head.

Two fuckin years already...

Ryn leaned her head against my shoulder, quiet for a long beat. "You've been dreaming a lot lately," she said suddenly. "I hear you sometimes in your sleep."

I blinked down at her. "Yeah, I guess. What about it?"

She shrugged, but the motion was stiff. "Just... you always seem somewhere else when you wake up. Off in Lark Land."

I chuckled. "Is that what we're calling it now? Sounds like a good place."

"Sure," she said. But it was dry. Too dry. "Where the sky hums your name, and every dream is symbolic and mysterious and not-at-all annoying."

I turned toward her, frowning a little. "Okay, where's this coming from?"

"Nowhere." She pulled away slightly, adjusting her jacket. "Forget I said anything. I'm being bitchy."

"Ryn--"

"Seriously." She held up a hand. "It's not a big deal. Just... you dream big, Lark. Crazy things you try to find meaning in. I guess I've been wondering what that makes me. Y'know. If I don't see it."

My mouth opened, but I didn't know what to say to that.

"Never mind," she added quickly. "I'm tired. I didn't mean to get all in my head."

She stepped ahead of me and opened the back door.

"Come on, birthday boy. Let's get you upstairs." She puffed out her cheeks before exhaling with a grin, nodding in surrender before we silently slipped in through the back door.

It opened into a combined kitchen and dining room, separated by a modest island. Simple but home. The fridge was adorned with many magnets and pictures, mainly of Ryn and me. No one was in the room, so Gran was probably distracted by her herbs and books on the other side of the house.

Good.

Ryn and I tried our best to be as quiet as possible as we went down the back hall and tiptoed our way up the stairs. I was able to keep her here a few times overnight when we were younger, and even though we weren't kids anymore, I still liked to keep some privacy.

We knew each creak and crack by hand and maneuvered them expertly as we ascended. If Granny didn't put the ward back up, we were gold. If she did, she'd be on our ass like white on rice. Again, it was a tiny house, so right at the top of the stairs was a door that opened into my loft-style bedroom. Granny slept in the only bedroom on the ground floor. She traded me as soon as I got into middle school. I tried to protest, but she insisted, saying she felt more comfortable. Maybe it was the stairs? I made it to the top and turned back to flash a victory smile at Ryn, but she was already crashing into my face.

Damn girl!

Carefully, before she knocks us down the stairs, I back us up to my door and reach for the handle. She is pushing all of her weight into me. We all but fall through the door, and she pushes away from me and starts taking off her shirt.

Well, shit, okay.

Not even two seconds pass, and she's crashing her lips right back into mine. I place my hands on her shoulders to break away and gasp at the sudden intake of breath, "Damn Ryn. Save some for later!" She slams her lips frantically back into mine.

"Later... is for... suckers." She says in between her vigorous assault on my mouth.

Grabbing my hands, she places both right on her tits. I obey and massage them gladly. Her head falls back as she lets out a small sigh. Soon after, she shoves me down onto the bed. She was always so highly aggressive.

"How about a little bit of an appetizer first, then?"

She wiggled her eyebrow at me as she started slowly and seductively removing her pants. I could hear the low growl beginning to rumble from deep within my chest, and I could feel my jeans get a little tighter as I grew.

"Don't mind if I do." My voice comes out a bit husky.

I was raised as a gentleman and taught never to waste a perfectly good meal. Who would I be not to oblige? I sit up a bit, taking my shirt off, and she starts hungrily removing my pants. She grabs hold of me tightly, and I inhale.

Always so damn rough.

I'm about to pull her onto me when she drops to her knees between my legs.

"Lay back, birthday boy. My treat." I let out a sigh as I felt her mouth wrap around me. A quick flick of my wrist and my protections are set. Luckily, this one also has remarkable sound-reducing qualities.

Thank you, tiny bit of witch genes!

I relax back and put my hands behind my head. Ryn was a bit wild with it, I must admit. Not necessarily in a good way, either. Maybe not even bad, just not for me. It took a while for me to build up. There was this thing she was doing where her hand was at my base, and her mouth was around me; the sucking and moving in unison, but she'd lose the rhythm. My rhythm. So, I would plateau, patiently waiting for the rise again.

That was one of the problems we had. The sexual chemistry just wasn't there for me, and I think she could feel it, too. Or lack of feeling. Not just with Ryn, if I'm honest. It's the thing with people for me. Just don't care for them.

Do I get turned on? Of course. Obviously. I still got off. A-Sexual? I don't think so. I think I get turned on more by the idea of things versus my experience ever actually doing those things if that makes sense. I'd have this idea in my head about what a particular thing would be like, get excited about it, only to find it was nothing like what I thought it would be.

It's been like that with everyone I've been with. So, it would be better to have something working than to have something working because of good sex, right? You know? If I was waiting for good sex, I think I might be waiting forever.

Bringing my wandering mind back to the present, I lace my hands in her hair. Slowly, I push myself back and forth to signal to her what's coming. She's already gagging before I get two decent pumps in, but she doesn't pinch my leg for me to stop like she usually does, so I press on. So systematic and organized. She always seems so excited at first, but once the action starts, it's like she gets bored and is going through the motions.

Luckily, I always know a way that I can sometimes fix that. Sometimes. It's worth a shot, so I grab her by the back of her hair and gently pull her up to me. I kiss her as passionately as I can get myself to. I let my tongue do a little dance in her mouth--a preview of what's to come.

Ryn gasps and then giggles as I pick her up bridal style and place her on my bed. "My treat as well, birthday babe," I whisper to her. I waste no time as I position myself upside down on my side, putting my face right between her legs. I started kissing her inner thighs, and she immediately put me back into her mouth with no hands this time. Instead, her hands are on my ass, pulling us closer together and me further into her mouth.

There we go.

I leave a little trail of kisses from thigh to thigh, skipping over her center before I dive in.

Appetizers it is!

Chapter 3: Pregame

I emerged from beneath the sheets, feeling accomplished. I licked my lips, slowly and deliberate, then puckered to blow her a sarcastic kiss. Raelyn's eyes flicked toward the ceiling as if searching for a little patience hidden somewhere in the rafters. Her foot landed square on my face, gently pushing me away.

"You think you're such hot shit, don't ya?" Her tone was stained with false annoyance. I wiggled my eyebrows in response, grabbed her foot, and started sucking on her middle toe. "Gross!" she yelped, kicking me harder this time. Letting out a theatrical groan, I tumbled out of bed like a drunk, taking half of the blanket with me. The way she glared at me over the covers was pure gold.

"I know it," I shot back, grabbing a towel and handing it to her to clean up.

"Ew... That's your splooge. Your mess means you clean it." She sneered.

"Spitting's for quitters," I added with a wag of my tongue, just to see her squirm.

"You're disgusting," she muttered, but there was no real venom behind it. That's how it was with us. A mix of banter and affection that never tipped too far in either direction. The middle lane was good. It was soothing.

As she dressed, I couldn't help but watch her as I stood leaning casually against the wall. Her breath escaped her in a soft, weary rush as I waited patiently. She had a nice figure. Overall, she was generally attractive. Her skin was darker than mine, a smooth, rich brown that had a natural warmth. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes were intense, framed by thick lashes. Deep auburn curls framed her face in voluminous, defined waves, the color catching hints of red in the light. There was something both calm and powerful about her, a sense of quiet confidence and resilience that made it hard for some to stand up to her.

Another long, drawn-out breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. Finally, she caught me admiring, of course, her eyes narrowing. "Raelyn? You keep sighing. What's up?"

For a split second, she hesitated, like she was weighing whether to answer. Then, with her typical brush-off, she gave me a flat, "Nothing. Just thinking about later."

I approached her, placed my hands on her shoulders, and squeezed them lightly, "Ryn, I said your full name, and you didn't bitch me out. What are you doing in your brain right now?" I made my expression as soft as I could, trying to provide comfort, but all she provided me was a small, crooked smirk. I tried my best, you know? As a man in his twenties with zero social skills, I'd like to think I'm not too terrible at being a boyfriend.

She shrugged me off her, "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I brought some pregame!" She grabbed her gray messenger bag and pulled out a pint of tequila and some orange juice. "Let's DO this! Or are you a little bitch, and you need a cup?" She smiled with what I'm sure was the biggest one she could muster and wiggled her eyebrows at me.

I raised one of mine in response, "Are you sure about this? If you need tequila to go through with it..." My voice trailed off, but my meaning was clear. I wasn't going to let her do something she'd regret.

She rolled her eyes, groaning again. "You're so dramatic, you know that? It's a pint between two!" She crossed her arms, glaring at me. "Look, I want to do this, okay? I'm just nervous. This will help take the edge off. What if it hurts? Do you want me in pain?!" her tone came out firm and steady as she held my gaze.

I swear I've seen a toy in her side table drawer before.

Regardless of the excuse, I accepted it willingly. I snorted, grabbing the bottle of tequila out of her hand.

"Hey!" she pouted at me as it slipped from her hands into mine.

"Nah. I've been a gentleman for long enough today. Dudes first!" I gave her a smirk, popped the bottle open, and took a big swig. That familiar burn was now barely noticeable. A few more swigs followed. I turned back to her, the alcohol starting to warm my face, "All right, Cherry Bomb! Are you ready to get this party started?"

"Rude. I haven't even had any yet! You're supposed to take care of your woman." She snatches the bottle back and takes a few gulps. The fire in her eyes made me grin. I liked to drink even though the haze didn't last nearly as long as it did for humans. I wonder if she got the same comfort from the burn as I did.

Guess not.

She grimaced and quickly chased it down with some of the juice before she continued, "Besides. We need to get whatever we need together. And shouldn't we let Granny know we're alive and leaving at least? She hasn't even noticed we came back yet..." It was true. I was getting good with my protection spells. Ryn said she can't sense their presence anymore, and Granny says sometimes she misses picking up on them, too. I've just had a lot of practice. It's a... It's a significant sound dampener.

"Are you kidding? And give her a reason to slow us up or get close enough to smell our breath? You crazy crazy." To this, she laughed and offered me back the pint. I nodded, and raised the bottle to her for a moment, then made short work of the last of it. After tossing it away in my trash can, I shuffled it under some other garbage to hide it as an afterthought.

I quickly started throwing stuff together while Ryn began to scan the bookcase while she waited. Thanks to Granny and Grandpa Clyde, there's a rather large collection there, so it should hold her attention long enough.

I flicked my wrist, making the familiar shimmer of the H. O. L. L. O. interface appear, suspended in the air in front of me. A notification blinked insistently at the edge of my vision, pulsing faintly.

"New Local Announcement: Community Center Gathering, October 30th -- 5:00 PM."

I frowned. That wasn't right. It was October the thirtieth today. This event had already happened, I only know because Sarah wouldn't stop talking about it a few weeks ago. She even showed us pictures. Not that I'm one to keep track of local events, but a creeping unease coiled in my gut as I flipped through the event feed, expecting to see some confirmation that the gathering had taken place a week or so before. Instead...

"New Local Announcement: Community Center Gathering, October 30th -- 5:00 PM."

Again.

The event hadn't happened yet.

I exhaled sharply, dismissing the screen with a flick of the wrist. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe it was a glitch.

But as I scrolled back through my H. O. L. L. O., the entire event log was different. There wasn't even a record of me ever having checked the announcement a moment ago. No trace of my own actions. Maybe a glitch due to Sentience Labs moving everything to the H. O. L. I. system.

Still... it was odd.

My hands shook slightly as I pulled open the desk drawer. The sketchbook lay there where it always did, but I slid it aside absently. The manila envelope lay beneath it, its fibers frayed, barely holding together. My name was scrawled across the front. The ink now faded and nearly gone.

Gran gave it to me a month ago, just before I left for class. She said my father wanted me to have it on my twenty-first birthday. It felt like a fifty-pound weight when she pressed it into my hand.

I asked if she knew what was inside. She said no. For the first time, I wasn't sure I believed her.

Even now, just looking at it, something heavy settled in my chest and sank deeper.

Should I show it to Ryn?

It felt weighted even now as I picked it up and slid it into the inside pocket of my jacket, my heart thrumming against my hand. I glanced over to her as her finger landed on a book with quality binding.

I cocked my head to the side as she paused to look it over, "What's that for?" Curiosity was evident in my voice. The dots were already starting to connect themselves in my head.

She turned, holding it up for me to see more clearly, beaming as she did. It was a copy of Werechildren's Tales of Old. Her smile was mischievous, the kind that promised trouble. "Want to awaken some Ancients to help us? Maybe they can bring us our destined mates?" her energy reminded me of that five-year-old hothead I met what now felt like ages ago.

I chuckled, shaking my head as I knelt to pull out my duffle bag from under the bed. This had any emergency supplies I might need if I ever hand to stay out anywhere till morning. You never know.

"Been thinking about this night for a while huh? You're ridiculous." she made a click noise with her teeth as she continued to flip through the pages.

"Coming from you? With a child's nighty nighttime story book? You're ridiculous."

"Oh, absolutely," she said, grinning, "but it'll be fun. It's spooky in the caverns, Lark! Those rocks are old as heck and it goes deep so, why not an Ancient?" she stated, waving the book around for a second.

I chuckled, "Okay. Let's sneak out the back. Let me leave Gran a note. I still don't think she knows we're even here."

"Okay, okay. Write your stupid note, and let's get outta here. We're going to go waste away the night!" she asserted with a soft chuckle.

I scribble on a scratch pad, we slink down the stairs, and I slip my note on the old, worn, chestnut dining room table. The coast was clear, and we left out the back door unnoticed. I toss the bag in the back of the jeep, and Ryn jumps in the passenger side. I tried my best, and I think I have succeeded in hiding my growing annoyance. I could see a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

She knows I hate it. Chivalry is important to me, and she loved to thwart my every attempt. Gran taught me it was only right to open and hold doors open for people. Especially elders and women. It was the mark of a true gentleman as she'd said. It's like Ryn thinks that I feel she's incapable. I know she could take care of herself but that wasn't the point. Doing these little things for her and Gran made me feel good.

We rode for a way in a comfortable silence. It would be at least a forty-five-minute drive to get there. I watched as the sun started setting to the left. It created beautiful shades of orange, purple, and even some pink behind the trees in the distance. I enjoyed it for a while before I heard Ryn start rustling through her bag.

"Ouch!" Ryn yelped and cursed under her breath. I stole a quick glance over as she thrust her finger in her mouth.

"You good?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just a little papercut." She responded absently and the rustle of the pages soon continued as she flipped through the book.

Curiosity bubbled in me as my gaze returned to Ryn, who had been quiet for a bit too long. She was examining a page more closely, her brow furrowed in concentration. I kept my eyes on the road, but they kept returning to her as she tilted it this way and that. Like one of those old school cop show search dogs, she was on the scent of something.

"Ryn."

Nothing.

"Raelyn?"

She shifted the book some more and I was left ignored. Finally, I reached out, placing a hand on her knee to catch her attention. "What's up?"

She looked at me sharply, as if I'd interrupted a sacred ritual. "Where'd you get this book, Lark? It's not like the one I have at home. No author, no publisher... nothing. And this part at the end..." She flipped to a page, her fingers tracing over the faded black ink. "I think it's Latin. Handwritten, no less. What's the deal with that?"

I shifted my gaze between her and the road. "Uh, that one? Grandpa Clyde gave it to me years ago at the harvest festival. You remember the one. You won the pumpkin smash that year." I smirked at the memory. "I brought my other copy to school once in second grade and lost it. Grandpa bought me that one and it hasn't left that shelf since."

Her brows knitted together, clearly dissatisfied with the news. She bobbed the book up and down in her hands like she was weighing it. "It's... ornate," she said after a moment, her tone suspicious. "Mine is a paperback of primary colors and cartoonish characters for children. The drawings are all different. I didn't know they printed them like this. This looks... old but new at the same time..."

I chuckled softly. "What, the gold edges and heavy paper too fancy for you?" She didn't even crack a smile, her focus entirely on the book. Her fingers brushed the spine, tracing the embossed letters. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride; it was a damn nice book. It was also one of the only things I had left of him.

Ryn's fingers stilled, and she glanced back up at me. "Did Clyde know Latin?"

I shrugged. "Doubt it. He barely scraped by with Spanish, and that's only because of Gran. Why?"

She didn't answer right away, her attention back on the book. I noticed her tapping the cover with her fingers, the gears clearly turning in her head. She had this way of zoning out, like the rest of the world didn't exist when she got like this. It was one of those quirks that made her so... Ryn.

The silence stretched, and I cleared my throat. "It's just an old book, Ryn. Nothing too crazy. So, it's a little fancy. That's it." The words felt hollow even to me, especially with the way she was flipping through the pages like they held the secrets of the universe.

"Hmm," she murmured, her consciousness already far off in the distance. I let it go, figuring she'd snap out of it eventually.

By the time we pulled up to the caverns, the sun had nearly disappeared, the sky mostly dark now with deep purples and small streaks of dwindling orange hues. Ryn practically leapt out of the Jeep before I'd even put it in park. I shook my head as I got out. "Impatient much?" I called after her.

She was already at the back, waiting with that expectant look she always got when she was trying to rush me. So, purposefully I took my time strapping on her harness and adjusting the clips. "Safety first," I said as I finished hers up and started working equally as slow on my own, ignoring her glare.

I finished and nodded to her with a smile as she stood there, arms folded across her chest. I headed toward the side entrance, avoiding the main tourist path, Ryn's soft footfalls shuffling behind me. The old tunnel was quieter, shielded by brush and less likely to get us caught. I paused and glanced around as we entered.

"You worry too much," Ryn muttered, her voice echoing faintly in the dark.

"Maybe," I replied, "but careful is better than almost getting our sorry asses kicked out. Again."

The entrance opened up into a slightly larger chamber, and I couldn't help but smile. No matter how many times we came here, it always felt otherworldly. The glittering crystals on the walls, the cool air that wrapped around you was a breath of fresh air to me. The smell of wet stone and still earth. It was like stepping into a different realm. I glanced over at Ryn, who was staring into the darkness that stretched into the distance.

"Still creepy?" I teased.

"Always," she shot back, though her smile betrayed her awe.

We moved deeper into the cavern system, the sound of our footsteps muffled by the thick layer of reddish clay beneath us. "Terra Rosa," I said absently, pointing to the soil.

"You're such a nerd," she muttered, but there was no bite to it. She was too busy taking it all in. It was then I realized she'd only really been here a handful of times. Last time being our sixteenth birthday.

Was it really that long ago now?

The thought almost saddened me as Ryn led the way down the old spiral staircase. I instinctively grabbed hold of her waist as the metal creaked under her heavy footsteps. "Careful," I said, though she brushed me off her.

A low screech echoed through the cave, and I saw Ryn's feet fly from underneath her.

Chapter 4: Moaning Caverns

I slipped and almost tumbled down the last few steps, but Lark caught me. Unfortunately, he was not as graceful as he expected himself to be and nearly fell with me instead. Luckily, he was able to grab hold of the rail in time. "Thanks, Lanky Lark! As smooth as ever, I see." My shot at grade school humor faded when I noticed him holding his hand up to the light. "You all right, Boss?"

To this, he snorted, "Says the chick who just tripped! I love how you moved from insulting me to my becoming your superior in two seconds. You know as well as I do that I'm the graceful one. And as for skinny..." He stripped off his hoody to expose his severely fitted t-shirt and started to flex in different poses.

I rolled my eyes at him. "I said Lanky! Not skinny. They are different, you know? And where do you find your clothes? The infant and toddler sections?" I raised a brow at him, and his immediately furrowed.

There was a definite frown slowly forming on his face. "You're just jealous because I'm so ripped and sexy." His brazen smile returned, and he wiggled his eyebrows at me. I just rolled mine again. "Nah, but really, I'm fine. Couple scrapes. No sweat, little blood, no tears. Nothing a band-aid or two won't fix."

Yeah. So, he's got a great body! I was pretty jealous, though. My body required me to work out to maintain my tight figure, unlike his lazy ass. Hard work, it is, too! Meanwhile, this guy can sit on the couch screen watching all day, stuffing his face for weeks, and will not gain a single ounce of fat. I so much as look at some carbs and already it starts piling on. Jealous was an understatement, so I left it at that. Wasn't going to respond. What is there to say? It was valid.

Each step we took sent echoes bouncing off the cavern walls, mocking our every move. Somewhere deeper, water dripped in a steady rhythm, almost too perfect to be natural. The shadows stretched unnaturally along the jagged walls, twisting into shapes that disappeared when I blinked. I told myself it was just the light playing tricks on my eyes, but I kept seeing Lark glance around.

Both our H. O. L. L. O's chimed at the same time, scaring the shit out of me, and though Lark hid it well, it even made him jump a smidge. I pulled up the screen, not really knowing why I bothered. It was another Sentience Labs advertisement talking about their new cutting-edge technology. Wasn't sure why they tried so hard. Everyone with the extra credits would dish them out willingly. They didn't need much convincing for a new cutting edge communication device.

Me, however? I needed a lot. It sounded the same as my fourth-generation H. O. L. L. O., with identical features and functions, only more invasive. Neuro Optic implants? No thanks. I swiped the notification away.

Lark began to unpack, and I got settled on a nice big, flat rock. Another one was pushed right up against the back of it, making it a great seat. It was my favorite spot. Someone had made what looked like a campfire but without the campfire. Large rocks were arranged in a circle, and smaller rocks were in a circle at its center. I pulled the book back out of my bag and began to thumb through it again. Full of so many stories gathered over time. How many times over the centuries has it been edited? Added to or things removed from. Probably dozens. I checked and double-checked again, but no. No other Latin had been written anywhere in the damn thing.

The story with the Latin was one of my favorites. I wonder if it was one of Larks, too. Then it might make more sense why this one is different. A little, anyway. The story was called The Trade. It was about this young princess and prince who were meant to marry. They were in complete and total love. Gifted Mates and all that. After they get married and become the King and Queen, they try for many years to have a child. To produce an heir to reign after they have passed. Eventually, after many years with no luck, they went to see their Dr and found out that they could not have children. At this news, the King went and secluded himself. Locking himself away, he roared and howled in pain for a very long time. How could the goddess do this to him? To them? They needed an heir, or all would be lost. Everything they've built would be left to ruin without their legacy to reign--a great fear for a royal father. After many nights of pain and agony, a creature appeared from the shadows. Having heard his plea to heal him and his wife, the creature offered a trade. A healthy womb and seed guaranteed to produce offspring in exchange for their firstborn child.

After deliberation with his wife, they both chose to accept the deal. They were blessed with a beautiful baby boy. First born son of the King. Well, as you can imagine, a bunch of drama later, and they tried to back out of the deal. They told the creature that they would not give up their child. That they could not, and the creature was evil for even asking such a thing in return. Especially daring to ask such a thing of the King. Some fighting ensued. They then were allied with a powerful siren. They contained the creature by putting it to sleep with a song and locked it away with the help of other powerful allies, where it could never be found again. Before being put to sleep, though, it warns the King and Queen by reminding them that there is always a price to pay and that sleep or no sleep, they will pay that price. Surprise! They ended up losing their son anyway.

That was their price, and they paid it regardless. Having gone back on their deal, the Queen could not produce any more children after their son. Their legacy died with them, and their kingdom withered into nothingness. A Forgotten blip in time. The story warns that one day, the creature will be awakened. It warns us to choose words and accept deals wisely, for you never know when it will show itself. It would be lurking in the shadows, waiting for your most vulnerable moment. It was a pretty dark story, sure, but they all were. The random Latin, though? I was sure this story originated in old English, but I could be wrong. I kept getting the feeling that I was missing something, though, as if my gut was trying to tell me something.

I was distracted from my thoughts when I heard Lark pop the caps on a beer and a cooler and handed me the cooler. He had set up a blanket on the ground with some snacks and drinks. He brought his music player, which I now noticed was on and playing the current hit list. He adjusted the dial and a familiar tune. Old and sultry. I prefer these classics myself. Music today is nothing like it. Bland. This shit turned me on. It really put me in the mood. Whichever mood I wanted at the time. He can always find the good stuff. He just has a naturally keen eye for it. Or ear, I guess.

I smiled at him as I sprawled out on the blanket he laid out, "C'mon, come sit with me. We've only got about forty more minutes until our birthday!" I checked my watch. It was currently October the thirtieth at approximately eleven twenty-one p. m.

I grabbed his hand and eagerly pulled him down on the blanket with me. We sat and talked for a bit. I was still nervous, and I could tell he was too. He was trying to act normal and keep the mood light, though, and I appreciated that. Honestly though. I don't like to wait for much. I needed to do this and get it over with. I might as well try my best to enjoy it as well. Slowly, while we were talking, I inch closer until we were arm to arm. He pulled away almost instantly and cleared his throat. I placed my hand on his thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. I should've felt something--fireworks, butterflies, anything. Instead, I felt... nothing.

He scooched away from me and met my eyes. Although I did try to hide it, disappointment was etched on my face. Crap. I didn't want to make him feel bad. I shimmied over to my bag, pulled out another pint of tequila and a de-coke, and smiled up at him.

He moved closer, filling the gap he'd created. "You okay?" he asked, his voice softer now.

"Yeah," I lied, forcing a smile. I hated how it seemed like he was literally reading my mind sometimes. Like my thoughts weren't exactly private. "Totally fine. You okay?

He nodded and leaned in. I let him. His lips were warm, familiar. Too familiar. Like a favorite sweatshirt. Comfortable and safe. Not exactly sexy.

My stomach churned, and I wasn't sure if it was nerves or tequila. I pulled back, laughing awkwardly to fill the silence. "You're a little too good at this, you know. Practicing on the town girls, huh?"

Lark grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "You caught me." But his smile didn't reach his eyes, and how he shifted made me wonder if he had felt the same lack of feeling I did. Emptiness. He looked at me almost expectantly.

"What? All business?" I furrowed my brow at him, "You want to hang out first? You're trying to skip the foreplay..." I gasped, "Lark, I thought you were a true gentleman!" I placed my hand on my chest and plastered a look of shock and horror on my face. We laughed, the tension breaking like a snapped string, and for the first time tonight, I felt normal. Like Lark and I were just us. No pressure, no expectations. Just two idiots trying to mess with destiny.

Didn't fool him one bit, "Listen here, Ryn..."

Here we go!

I took a shot as he continued, "First, you fucking know I am a gentleman."

I rolled my eyes. Yes, all gentlemen curse like a sailor.

"And second of all!" he held up his finger indignantly, then paused momentarily. He exaggeratedly sighed as he let his hand fall back down. "All right, hand it over." He scooted back over, closing the gap between us. I passed it to him, and he took a few swigs, again, ignoring the chaser I had brought.

We sat there and talked for a bit longer, and the worries of today and tomorrow started to slip slowly away into the darkness. We absently passed the bottle back and forth. I felt the heat spread across my face from the alcohol. I wanted to enjoy it, wanted to be carefree. It took the pressure off both of us and was nice. These days were mostly spent doing our homework, studying, talking about leaving and life after college, Lark's extra lessons from Gran, and me helping my parents with the kids. This almost felt like back when we were kids.

He asked how my parents were, and I told him that they were expecting again. "Horny devils. As If having a daughter and ten sons wasn't enough. Like dad! Just get OFF her already!" He laughed wholeheartedly at this news.

He slipped his arm around my shoulders and looked down at me. "Oh, we should be so lucky to have a love like that one day. Anyway, enough of all that. I believe I remember a certain person bringing a certain book. Hmm?" I couldn't help but giggle.

"Yep, if I remember correctly, we were supposed to wake up some sleepy ancient. Hurry up, Ryn. I'm going to demand them to grant me one or make you my fated mate!" He practically beamed at me.

What a child.

"You're going to demand an Ancient?" I asked incredulously, with my brow cocked up at him.

He nodded at me with a large smile still plastered to his face.

Lark had the kind of face that drew attention without effort. It was sharp, striking, and carved with an almost impossible precision. His skin was a deep, warm bronze, smooth and luminous as if kissed by perpetual sunlight. His jawline was strong and clean, tapering into high, sculpted cheekbones that gave him a bold, commanding presence.

His hair was a mass of close-cropped curls, dark and textured, adding a raw, untamed edge to his otherwise flawless features. Full lips, set with a natural curve that hinted at both softness and severity, balanced the hard angles of his face.

But when he smiled like this, he was almost a young boy again. And a demand for love is all he wanted. So simple. So easy. What would I ask an Ancient for? Not love. I'd ask for power. To be the master of my own destiny. To break free from the bind of familial expectations.

"Yeah." I snorted at the thought. "Okay. Okay." I reached over and grabbed it. Couldn't help but let my fingers slide over the gold etchings on the cover as I opened it. "Let's see, let's see..." I thumbed through until I found my favorite one: The King's Legacy. He looked at me with a raised brow. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just surprised, is all. Thought it would be something like... the one about Princess Dahlia." He shrugged his shoulders.

"HA!" I boomed. "Why? Because she's Fae?!" I snapped. Was he trying to get into a fight? I could feel my anger rising, but I took a few breaths. "Whatever. Let's just start." I began to read, but Lark cut me off.

"Do we have to read it all? We both know the story. Let's get to the end with the waking song."

I wrinkled my nose at the idea, "What is the fun in that Lark? We need the story to set the ambiance." He rolled his eyes, and I giggled at him. We settled in, Lark's arm heavy on my shoulder, anchoring me in the moment with occasional soft kisses on the top of my head. But beneath his warmth, a question lingered.

Was this what I wanted? Was he what I wanted?

He leaned over to watch as I read. I made it all the way to the end, and I saw Lark perk up.

He pointed at the book, "What is that?" I looked over at him. His brows were furrowed, and he seemed to be deep in thought. I took this opportunity to admire him. He really was a handsome man. It was no secret why everyone wanted him. Why he couldn't see it himself was beyond me. "Ryn? Earth to Ryn."

"Yes Lark. I pointed that out to you on the ride over, and you..." I thought about it momentarily, "I asked you about Clyde and the Latin inscription here." He looked as if he were utterly confused. "Honestly Lark! Sometimes, I don't know why I waste my breath. It's like you half-ass listen to me sometimes." I crossed my arms across my chest. What a total douche.

He shrugged, "Okay, yeah, whatever. I don't ever remember it being like this..." his voice trailed off. I put my hand over my face. So annoying. "I remember the song here. Doesn't it go something like... After you have been laid to sleep, far too long you've been made to reap. For what you have sowed has long since been gone. You shall awaken at this new dawn..."

I nodded, cut him off, and said it in a rush, "Like the rising sun that shines. From the darkness comes a light. Hear my voice; this is your Awakening. Like the rising sun that shines. Awaken my soul awaken your soul we sing. Last line repeats three times. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don't know Lark!"

This was the song we knew growing up. Lark looked at me blankly, "You mean to tell me that you found it like this? I don't remember that ever being in there..." His gaze shifted from the book back to me. This time, it was pointedly. "Let me see that." He reached out, and I passed over the book. I guess not quickly enough for him because he snatched it right from my hand.

"Hey!" I snapped. "Are you slow man? Must I say the same thing over and over again? Yes, I found it like this. No, I've never seen a copy like this. I asked you where the hell it was from!"

I let my anger show in my voice. He was so damn annoying. He was looking intently at the page. His finger trailed over the text down each line. I pushed my emotions away.

"Come on," I said, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Let's focus on the ritual. You're terrible at Latin, and I don't want to die because you can't pronounce 'evigilabis' right."

"Oh, I see," he teased and smirked. "You just don't want me showing you up!" This was silly, tipsy Lark. He and I get along well for the most part. A snort escaped him, "C'mon. You can just stumble through with me, " he said with a chuckle. I nodded, and we began reciting the song in Latin, the unfamiliar syllables rolling off my tongue, sending shivers down my spine:

Postquam dormitus es

Nimium diu factus es metendi

Nam quod seminatum est, jamdiu est

Evigilabis hac nova luce

Oriens sicut sol qui lucet

A tenebris lux

Vocem meam audi

Haec est Excitatio tua

Oriens sicut sol qui lucet

Evigila, anima mea

Excita animam tuam

Quam canimus

With the last line, we repeated it three times. The air around us shifted, growing colder and heavier but my skin was getting hotter. A gust of wind swirled through the cavern, carrying with it the faintest whisper, like an old memory long forgotten. A chill ran down my spine.

The ache was back and growing.

We looked at each other simultaneously. He had felt it, too, the coldness drawing us together. There was an undeniable magnetism that wasn't there before. He moved in behind me, and I leaned back into him as we talked. He was so tall that his chin could rest on my head.

He placed a finger under my chin and pulled me up to look at him. Staring right at my lips, leaving me with no question as to what he was about to do.

He leaned in and kissed me. It was gentle and methodic. As always, but for some reason, it felt better somehow. His arm wrapped around me and found my breast. He pulled my shirt up to expose it and began to massage me. Soon, my nipple was hard, and he was gently pinching it between his fingers. I felt his other hand slide down right between my legs. I moaned into his mouth and push my body right into him.

Now we're talking!

His fingers grazed me through the fabric, and he let out a low groan. It was... different sounding. Primal. It startled me.

That was new...

Quickly, I turned to look at him. The look he was giving sent me. I don't know. Maybe there was something in the air? I pushed him right over and jumped on top of him. There was that sound again.

A growl. It was a feral sound I'd never heard come out of the man before. A low rumble in his chest. His eyes were hooded as he looked up at me and gave one good thrust upward, causing me to feel every bit of his erection as it rubbed across my most sensitive area. A gasp escaped my lips, and I looked him in his eyes. I swear to you, they were red underneath those heavy lids. Must've been going crazy. It was really dark down here.

Suddenly, those butterflies returned. Only this time, they made me feel nauseous. I didn't want this man. I didn't love this man. I had love for him, but I did not love him. At that moment, it was clear I didn't think I ever could.

This strange, sick feeling morphed and deepened. I opened my mouth to say something, but no sound came out. My heart pounded so loudly that it drowned out everything else. Or maybe there was nothing left to hear. Even Lark had gone still beside me, his usual nervous energy replaced by something else.

The light flickered violently, casting jagged shadows along the cavern walls. The darkness seemed to move, shifting in ways that made my stomach twist. I squinted, trying to convince myself it was just a trick of the light, but then I saw her.

At first, it was impossible to make sense of her form. The shadows around her writhed and flickered, distorting her silhouette like a mirage. But then the light steadied, and she stepped forward. She was radiant. Terrifyingly radiant. Her skin glowed faintly, like moonlight on still water, and her hair spilled down her back in waves of silver-white, floating as though gravity was a suggestion she chose to ignore.

I couldn't breathe. She was naked, but it wasn't the kind of naked that should make you look away out of modesty or shame. It was like she'd been carved from the purest marble, her body a seamless, perfect thing that didn't belong in this world. No flaws, no scars, no signs of life--just beauty that felt wrong, like staring directly at the sun.

My legs buckled beneath me, and I dropped to my knees without realizing it. My hands dug into the cold dirt, grounding me, but it didn't help. My chest burned as if I'd forgotten how to breathe, and I couldn't decide if I wanted to get closer or run as far away as possible.

Lark inhaled sharply, breaking the spell for just a moment. My eyes darted to him, and the sight of his wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression told me I wasn't the only one feeling the pull. His hands trembled at his sides, his fingers twitching as though they wanted to reach for her, but he stayed rooted in place.

The light around her brightened, spilling over the jagged cavern walls, and for a moment, I swore the shadows bowed to her. She was something ancient, something wrong. My instincts screamed at me that this wasn't right, that we had done something we couldn't take back.

Then her eyes met mine.

The air left my lungs in a rush, and I froze. They weren't human eyes. Not fully. Too bright, too deep, like staring into the night sky itself. I felt seen. Not in the way Lark or anyone else had ever seen me, but completely exposed, as though she could see everything I was, everything I wasn't, everything I was trying to be.

The weight of her gaze pressed down on me, and I felt small. Insignificant. And yet... chosen.

I didn't know how long we stayed like that--her looking at me, me unable to look away. A second? An eternity? All I knew was that I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't feel anything but the fire spreading through my veins.

Then, the light dimmed just slightly, and the shadows reclaimed the walls. The cavern seemed to exhale, and the sound of my ragged breathing filled the space. I didn't dare blink. I wasn't sure if I even could.

What have we done?