The cool night air brushed past Lysander as he stood on the balcony, staring at the moon. His sisters had always warned him to stay inside, saying that only the strong could survive in the world outside. But he wasn’t like his sisters. He was different. He was determined to prove that he could do something they couldn’t.

With a deep breath, he took a step forward, his wings spreading slightly behind him, the tips brushing the stone. His heart raced. Tonight, he would fly.

"I’ll be the first," he muttered to himself. "I’ll be the first to actually fly."

For weeks, he’d been sneaking away to practice, hidden from his sisters. They were still struggling to even glide properly—but not him. He was going to do it. He had to.

He took another step, his heart pounding in excitement, and suddenly, with a leap of faith, he jumped into the air.

For a brief moment, he felt weightless, the wind rushing past him, his wings catching the night air. He was flying. He was actually flying.

But then, as the wind grew stronger, his balance faltered. His wings were awkwardly flapping, the muscles not yet used to the intensity. His body swayed from side to side, and panic surged through him.

"I’m going to fall—!" he thought, his stomach twisting.

THUD.

The world spun as the ground rushed toward him, and in an instant, he was plummeting toward the earth.

He crashed into a bed of leaves, the air knocked out of him, and the sting of pain rippling up his leg. His wings were bruised, and the world was spinning.

"Ow... that hurts," Lysander groaned, trying to push himself up but failing. He winced, glancing around. He was far beyond the borders of the kingdom. The trees here looked different, thicker. Dangerous.

He tried to stand but only stumbled. His foot caught a root, and he fell face-first into the dirt. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

"Great. Just great," he muttered to himself, struggling to his feet. "I’m lost and hurt. And I can’t even fly right..."

A low growl cut through the air, freezing him.

Lysander’s heart pounded as he slowly looked over his shoulder. A massive figure stepped from behind the trees, his eyes glowing a fierce yellow in the dim light.

The Alpha werewolf had arrived.

Lysander’s heart raced as he stared at the towering Alpha, his mind scrambling to make sense of the situation. The air felt thick with tension as the Alpha’s figure loomed over him. Despite the red cloth covering his eyes, the Alpha radiated an undeniable, terrifying power. His long, silky hair flowed gently in the wind, and his tail flicked behind him with every step. Lysander couldn’t help but notice the hybrid’s finely honed, muscular body, a stark contrast to his own slender, fragile frame.

Lysander tried to steady his breath, wincing at the pain in his leg. He barely noticed the Alpha’s low growl as the werewolf stepped closer, the ground beneath his feet seeming to tremble with every movement.

“You look pathetic,” the Alpha muttered with a scoff, his voice dripping with disdain. “A vampire, helpless in my territory. You barely know how to fly, and now you’ve injured yourself. You’re nothing but a joke.”

Lysander’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he said nothing, unwilling to show his weakness further. The Alpha’s piercing gaze, despite being hidden behind the red cloth, felt as though it were cutting through him, inspecting every flaw.

The Alpha crouched down beside Lysander, a low growl escaping his throat. “You’ve made quite a mess of yourself. You might be a vampire, but you’re far from impressive.” He pulled out a small vial from his belt, uncorking it with a quick flick of his wrist. “Here, drink this. It’ll heal your leg, though I doubt it’ll fix your wings. Pathetic.”

Lysander recoiled slightly at the tone, but he didn’t want to protest. His leg was throbbing, and though the Alpha was insufferable, the offer of help was something he couldn’t turn down. Reluctantly, he took the vial, the bitter liquid burning down his throat as soon as he swallowed.

The Alpha watched him with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “You vampires are all the same,” he sneered. “So fragile. Pathetic little creatures thinking they’re better than everyone else.” He glanced at Lysander’s wings, still awkwardly fluttering with the strain of flight. “And those wings—how the hell do you even manage to fly with such… pathetic excuses for wings? I’ve seen more graceful creatures in my yard.”

Lysander bit back a retort, too humiliated to say anything. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as the Alpha’s harsh words pierced his pride. His wings felt heavier than ever now, but he had no choice but to endure the ridicule. He had no idea who this Alpha was, but he didn’t seem like the type to let things slide.

“Your wings can barely hold you up,” the Alpha continued, voice dripping with scorn. “I should be the one asking you what you’re doing here, but all I’m getting is a pitiful display. You should go back before I decide to tear you apart just for being such a weakling.”

Lysander took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. The healing potion was starting to work, and the pain in his leg slowly dulled, but the sting of the Alpha’s words remained. He could feel his pride being shattered with every insult, but he had to remain strong. He couldn’t let this werewolf see how much he was hurting.

“Y-You think you can just order me around?” Lysander finally managed, his voice shaky but defiant. “I’m not some lowly creature you can push around.”

The Alpha’s lips curled into a dark smile, though his eyes remained hidden. “Oh, but you are. You’re in my territory now, little vampire. And in my territory, you follow my rules.” He paused for a moment, letting his words hang in the air. “And that means you leave before I decide to make an example of you.”

Lysander swallowed hard. The Alpha’s presence was overwhelming, and though his words were harsh, there was an underlying sense of power that made Lysander’s heart race. He couldn’t afford to anger him further.

With a deep breath, Lysander slowly stood up, forcing himself to steady his shaky legs. His wings fluttered again, awkward and stiff, but he couldn’t let the Alpha see how much it hurt.

“Fine,” Lysander muttered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll leave.”

The Alpha gave a low chuckle. “You’d better, or you won’t be able to leave at all. Go back to your kingdom, little vampire. It’s where you belong.”

Lysander gave him one last, hesitant look before turning on his heels. His wings struggled to carry him as he flew awkwardly, the weight of the Alpha’s insults still weighing heavily on his heart. The bitter taste of the healing potion still lingered in his mouth, but it was nothing compared to the sting of humiliation he felt.

As Lysander flew away, the Alpha’s voice echoed in his mind: “Get back to your kingdom before I tear you apart.” He knew the Alpha wasn’t joking.

To be continued

Lysander stumbled into his chambers, his wings still aching from the flight back. His sisters followed close behind, their sharp eyes filled with suspicion.

His eldest sister, Seraphina, crossed her arms. “Alright, Lysander. Start talking. What happened out there?”

His second sister, Celeste, wrinkled her nose and took a step back. “And why do you smell like a wet dog?”

Lysander groaned and sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his temples. He knew there was no getting out of this. “I… I tried to fly first,” he admitted, glancing down at his lap. “I wanted to be the first one between us to do it. But I lost balance and ended up outside the border… in werewolf territory.”

Seraphina gasped. “Lysander, are you insane?! You could have been killed!”

Celeste smacked her forehead. “Unbelievable. You’re an Omega, and you walked right into their land? Do you have a death wish?”

Lysander sighed. “I didn’t walk in. I fell in. And then… I met an Alpha.”

The room fell silent.

Seraphina’s crimson eyes widened. “Describe him. Now.”

Lysander hesitated but then relented. “He was tall, had long, silky hair, and his eyes were covered with a red cloth. He had wolf ears and a tail, but no fur on his body. He—”

Before he could finish, Celeste suddenly slapped her own face in disbelief. “Wait… wait… Lysander… are you telling us you met the flipping King of the Werewolves?”

Seraphina’s jaw dropped. “The Blind Alpha? The one who slaughtered an entire battalion of vampires in the last war?! That guy?!”

Lysander blinked. “Wait—he’s a king?!”

Celeste grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. “How did this happen?! What did you say to him? What did he say to you?”

Lysander gulped. “Uh… well, he called me pathetic and insulted my wings. He also said I looked weak and useless…”

Seraphina groaned and dragged a hand down her face. “Lysander. You met the most feared Alpha in existence, and all he did was call you weak?”

Celeste let go of him, taking a deep breath. “You have to stay away from him. If the King of the Werewolves has seen your face, it could mean trouble for all of us.”

Lysander frowned. The Alpha’s words still burned in his mind, but there was something else—something that unsettled him more than the insults.

The way the Alpha had touched his leg. The way his voice had rumbled, low and deep, as if he was holding back something.

Lysander shivered.

This wasn’t over.

With the alpha

Back in the werewolf territory, the Alpha sat outside his den, his tail flicking lazily as he leaned against a tree. Though his eyes were hidden beneath the red cloth, his senses were sharper than anyone could imagine.

The scent of the vampire lingered on his hands. Sweet, rich, intoxicating.

He growled to himself, running a hand through his silky hair. “Damn bloodsucker…”

Yet, despite his irritation, he couldn’t deny the strange feeling in his chest. That little Omega vampire—clumsy, weak, and absolutely pathetic—had stirred something in him.

Something possessive.

Something dangerous.

And it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed again.

To be continued

Seraphina and Celeste stared at Lysander, their expressions shifting from shock to pure horror.

Seraphina took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Lysander… tell me exactly what happened. Did he touch you?”

Lysander hesitated, thinking back to when the Alpha had grabbed his leg and forced the medicine onto his wound. “Uh… yeah, I guess?”

Celeste’s eye twitched. “Where?”

“My leg.”

Both sisters exchanged a look before Celeste groaned dramatically and collapsed onto the bed, flinging her arm over her face. “Oh, great! We’re all doomed.”

Lysander blinked. “What? Why?”

Seraphina’s face paled. “Lysander… did you feel anything when he touched you? A shiver? Warmth? Maybe an odd sense of—”

Lysander thought about it—the strange warmth that lingered, the way his skin tingled under the Alpha’s grip. “I mean… yeah? But that’s normal, right?”

Celeste bolted upright. “No, you idiot! That means he scented you!”

Lysander frowned. “Scented me? That doesn’t sound so bad.”

Seraphina groaned. “Lysander… when an Alpha scents an Omega, it’s a claim. Even if it was unintentional, his scent is on you now. Other Alphas will smell it.”

Lysander’s blood ran cold. “Wait—so you’re saying that the werewolf king accidentally claimed me?!”

Celeste sat up, gripping her head. “Not fully, but it’s enough to make you a walking target for other Alphas who want to challenge him—or worse, the vampires who will think you betrayed our kind!”

Lysander’s heart pounded. “Okay, okay, let’s stay calm! I’ll just wash it off—”

Seraphina cut him off. “It doesn’t work that way. An Alpha’s scent doesn’t just wash off. It’ll linger for days, maybe longer because he’s strong.”

Celeste groaned again. “Oh, wonderful. Our little brother just got half-claimed by the most dangerous Alpha alive. The same Alpha who hates vampires. The same Alpha who could wipe us out if he wanted to.” She dramatically flopped back down. “Yup. We’re doomed.”

Lysander gulped. “Maybe… maybe he won’t come looking for me?”

Seraphina gave him a flat stare. “Oh, he will. And when he does, we better be ready.”

Lysander nervously bit his lip, a sinking feeling settling in his chest.

Somehow, he knew she was right.

Lysander paced back and forth in his room, running his hands through his soft, silvery hair. “Okay, okay… what do I do? How do I unscent myself? Maybe if I cover it with perfume? Or bathe in rose water? Or maybe—”

“Maybe you stop talking before you pass out,” Celeste interrupted, rolling her eyes as she lay sprawled across his bed.

Seraphina, who stood near the window with her arms crossed, sighed. “You can’t just get rid of an Alpha’s scent, Lysander. Especially not one as powerful as him.”

Lysander groaned and flopped onto the floor dramatically. “I am so dead. If mother finds out—”

The door suddenly burst open.

Their mother, Queen Belladonna, stormed inside, her long black gown flowing behind her. Her sharp crimson eyes landed directly on Lysander.

The room fell into silence.

The queen took a single step forward, sniffing the air. Then her eyes narrowed.

“…Lysander.”

Lysander stiffened. “Uh—y-yes, Mother?”

Her lips curled into a frown. “Why do you reek of a werewolf?”

Lysander swallowed hard. “Uh… um… well, you see…”

Belladonna’s gaze darkened as she turned to Seraphina and Celeste. “Explain.”

Celeste pointed at Lysander without hesitation. “It’s his fault.”

“Celeste!” Lysander whined.

Seraphina sighed. “He flew out of the kingdom, crashed into werewolf territory, and met him—the Blind Alpha.”

Belladonna’s eyes widened slightly before they narrowed again. “The werewolf king?”

Lysander hesitated, then nodded slowly.

The queen’s frown deepened, her elegant fingers gripping the fabric of her gown. “And he scented you?”

Lysander winced. “It… wasn’t on purpose! He just grabbed my leg to put medicine on it—”

Belladonna inhaled sharply. “He touched you?”

Lysander winced again. “...Y-yeah?”

The room fell into heavy silence. Then—

“Oh, wonderful.” Belladonna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just fantastic.”

Lysander blinked. “Wait, you’re not going to yell at me?”

His mother let out a slow breath before turning toward the window. “No, because it would be pointless. What’s done is done.”

Celeste looked at her in disbelief. “So, what? We just let our little brother be claimed by a dog?!”

Belladonna’s lips twitched slightly. “No. But we must prepare.” She turned back to Lysander. “You will see him again. It’s only a matter of time.”

Lysander felt his stomach twist. “But… why?”

Belladonna gave him a look, as if the answer was obvious.

“Because, my dear son…” she said, voice calm but firm.

“An Alpha never lets go of what he claims.”

To be continued