The darkness pursued Aria and Elijah relentlessly. They navigated the city's hidden paths, avoiding danger at every turn.
Elijah's skills as a vampire proved invaluable, but Aria's determination and courage kept them going.
"We'll find a safe haven," Elijah promised, his eyes locked on hers. "Hold on."
Aria nodded, her trust in Elijah unwavering
They plunged deeper into the city's underbelly, moving through narrow alleys and forgotten tunnels that twisted like veins beneath the surface. The night pressed in on them like a living thing, dense and suffocating. Even without speaking, they moved in perfect rhythm—Elijah's senses guiding them, Aria's resolve anchoring them both.
Above them, the world teetered on the brink. The air was electric with fear. People didn't understand what stalked the shadows, but they felt it. Something ancient had awakened, and it hungered for blood, chaos, and above all—Aria.
Elijah stopped near a rusted metal grate, crouching to inspect it.
"This leads to an old metro tunnel," he said quietly. "It was sealed off after the last attack from the shadowkin. No one goes down there anymore."
"Then it's perfect," Aria replied.
He grunted in agreement and wrenched the grate open with a strength that reminded her just how inhuman he truly was. The scent of damp stone and iron drifted up, but beneath it, Aria sensed something else—an energy that made her skin crawl.
They descended together, stepping into complete darkness. Elijah's eyes adjusted immediately, his pupils dilating to absorb what little light filtered down from the streets. Aria, though human, could see faint flickers of magic glowing along the tunnel walls—traces of old protective spells that had long since faded.
"Elijah," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "do you think this was ever truly a sanctuary?"
"No," he said. "It was a battleground. But there's power in places like this. Memory. And we can use it."
They moved through the tunnels with caution. Every now and then, a distant thud echoed—a sound that didn't belong to the pipes or the shifting city. It followed them like a heartbeat, closer with each step.
Eventually, they reached a derelict platform. The tracks were cracked and rusted, overgrown with roots that shouldn't have been there. Moss glowed faintly, illuminating the decaying pillars. It was strangely beautiful, like a ruin claimed by nature and magic.
"We rest here," Elijah said. "For now."
Aria sat on a slab of stone, wrapping her arms around herself. The cold seeped into her bones, but she didn't complain. Her eyes found Elijah's as he stood watch, his back rigid, his body ready to strike at the first hint of danger.
"Do you ever get tired of it?" she asked softly.
He turned to her. "Of what?"
"Running. Fighting. Always being hunted or hunting something worse."
He hesitated before answering. "I used to. A long time ago. But now…" He looked at her, and something shifted in his expression. "Now I have a reason to keep going."
She held his gaze, her chest tightening. Words trembled on her lips, but before she could speak, the air shifted.
The platform darkened, shadows creeping unnaturally fast.
"They're here," Elijah whispered, moving to her side. "Stay behind me."
But Aria stood too. "Not this time."
From the tunnel beyond, figures emerged. Not creatures—humans. But something was wrong. Their eyes were vacant, and a dark mist curled from their skin.
"Thralls," Elijah muttered. "Controlled by shadow magic."
The possessed humans advanced in unison, jerking with puppet-like movements. At their center stood a figure cloaked in black, a mask covering its face. The leader of the hunt.
Elijah's fangs lengthened, a low growl rising in his throat. "You take the left. I'll take the right."
Aria didn't question it. They moved together—Elijah a blur of motion, taking down the thralls with precise, non-lethal strikes. Aria raised her hand, summoning the light she had once feared to wield. It responded instantly now, forming a barrier that disintegrated the mist without harming the hosts.
The cloaked figure watched with eerie calm.
Aria approached it, the scroll of prophecy vibrating inside her satchel.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "Why are you hunting me?"
The figure tilted its head, then slowly reached for its mask.
Elijah stepped between them. "Aria, wait."
Too late. The mask fell.
Beneath it was a woman—her features elegant and eerily familiar. Her eyes glowed violet, and her skin shimmered with veins of shadow.
"I am Selene," she said, her voice echoing unnaturally. "Daughter of the Night Court. Bound to the bloodline that betrayed us."
Aria's stomach dropped. "You're… one of us?"
Selene smiled coldly. "No. I am what you will become—if you fail."
Elijah lunged, but Selene vanished in a burst of dark mist. The thralls collapsed to the ground, freed from her influence.
Aria fell to her knees, trembling.
"She knew me. She knew what I am," she whispered.
Elijah knelt beside her, gripping her shoulders. "We'll find out what she meant. But not here. We have to keep moving."
---
They emerged from the tunnels into the outskirts of the city, where the lights didn't reach and the silence felt suffocating. Elijah led them to an old cathedral—abandoned, ivy-covered, yet still standing against time's erosion.
Inside, the air buzzed with residual magic. Aria collapsed onto a bench, exhausted. Elijah searched the shadows for signs of danger, then returned to her side.
"Selene…" Aria murmured, her fingers brushing the scroll. "She said I'd become like her. That I'm part of her bloodline."
"She's trying to unnerve you," Elijah said. "Twist the truth."
"But what if it's not a lie?" Aria's voice cracked. "What if I am part of this darkness?"
Elijah cupped her face in his hands. "Then we fight it. Together."
Tears welled in her eyes. "Even if I turn into something like her?"
He didn't hesitate. "Especially then."
Their foreheads touched. In that quiet moment, everything else fell away—the hunt, the prophecy, the war brewing beyond the horizon. All that remained was this bond. Fragile yet fierce. A moonlit thread binding two souls across lifetimes.
---
That night, Aria dreamed of fire and stars. Of a temple in the mountains where voices chanted her name. Of a mirror that reflected not her face, but Selene's.
When she woke, Elijah was gone.
Panic surged in her chest until she saw the note etched in chalk on the floor:
"Gone to scout. Stay hidden. I'll return."
But something felt wrong. The air was too still. The city too quiet.
She rose, heart thudding, and followed the trail Elijah had left—faint marks only she would notice. They led her to a narrow street cloaked in fog.
And then—she heard it.
A scream. His scream.
She ran.
When she found him, he was surrounded by cloaked figures. Selene stood at the center, her hand raised, a tendril of darkness choking Elijah mid-air.
"I told you," she said without turning. "You can't protect her forever."
Aria's fury erupted. The scroll at her side blazed with light, and the prophecy poured from her lips like a spell. The runes danced around her, shielding her from the darkness as she advanced.
Selene's power met hers in a blast of energy that split the street. The shadows recoiled, and Elijah fell to the ground, gasping.
Aria stood over him, light burning in her eyes. "Let this be your warning," she said to Selene. "You want me? Then face me without your puppets."
Selene vanished again, her laughter echoing behind.
Aria dropped to her knees, cradling Elijah's head. His eyes fluttered open, weak but aware.
"You didn't wait," he whispered.
"I wasn't going to lose you," she said fiercely.
And she meant it.
The hunt wasn't over. Not by far.
But Aria no longer feared it.
Now, she was the hunter.
---