Chapter 2 Enemy territory

I looked around in awe, wondering if I was dreaming. I was no longer in my four-cornered cell but standing in a place where heavy winds brushed past me.

Towering trees surrounded me, confirming what I already suspected—I was in a forest. But how I had gotten here was beyond my understanding.

I tilted my head upward, mesmerized by the magnificent purple sky adorned with countless twinkling stars. I had seen skies like this only in the books my friend once brought me to read.

The air was fresh and untainted, filling my lungs and flooding me with a sensation I had never known before.

Freedom.

My eyes widened as I turned in every direction, confusion washing over me. Trees. The open sky. The wind against my skin. I had never seen or felt any of it in all twenty years of my life.

‘I am… free?’

But how?

I blinked repeatedly, struggling to accept the truth staring me in the face. Moments ago, I had been locked inside my cell… and now I was outside.

A smile tugged at my lips as the realization sank in. This couldn’t be a dream…it felt too real.

I didn’t know how I managed to escape but I knew one thing for certain: I was never getting caught again.

I began to walk slowly, my bare feet brushing against the cold grass. The night was dark, and I had no idea where I was or where I was heading.

Then it hit me—an overwhelming scent that stopped me in my tracks. It was musky and damp, with a trace of earth and pine. I frowned, scanning the shadows, trying to convince myself it was just the forest. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t.

The scent stirred something within me, an unease that crawled up my spine. Something was out there. Watching and moving closer.

Anxiety clawed at my chest as I listened intently, my ears twitching at the sound of rustling leaves and faint, echoing footsteps.

And then, a deep, guttural growl reached my ears.

A growl? Could it be… a werewolf?

Before I could react, something lunged at me from the side, slamming me to the ground with a startled cry.

My eyes widened in horror as I found myself face-to-face with a pair of golden eyes flecked with amber, and a mouth full of razor-sharp fangs snapping inches from my throat.

Instinct kicked in and I caught its neck with both hands, struggling to keep its jaws from tearing into me.

A fierce struggle erupted as I fought desperately to shove the beast off me. With every ounce of strength I had, I pushed, and finally, it stumbled back with a whimper, crashing onto the forest floor.

I scrambled to my feet, heart pounding, only to freeze when I saw three more werewolves emerging from the shadows ahead. I spun around, and another three appeared behind me.

It becomes painfully clear that I am outnumbered and trapped.

Six of them. Surrounding me.

I swallowed hard, terror clawing up my throat as my life flashed before my eyes.

This was my fault. I should have been more careful. After all the books I’d read about the world outside, I should have known better. Every land belonged to someone, and I must have wandered straight into werewolf territory.

I was a vampire. They were werewolves. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.

Was this really how my life would end? Mauled by enraged werewolves before I even had a chance to live?

No… not like this.

I had once believed I’d rather die than rot in that prison cell, but now that I had tasted freedom, I couldn’t die. Not yet.

Not until I found the answers I sought.

Not until I made the man I called my father pay for what he’d done to me.

Anxiety eclipsed every thought, freezing me where I stood as the circle of predators closed in.

They kept growling and snarling at me, their menacing presence pinning me in place as if my feet were rooted to the ground.

They looked exactly as the books had described them… feral creatures, all muscle and instinct, ready to tear me apart with a single strike.

One bite from them, and I’d be nothing but another corpse feeding the earth.

What should I do? What should I do? Should I fight back? But do I even possess the skills to engage in combat? I had never fought anyone before, never even raised a hand in defense.

I’d always believed I wasn’t afraid of death. I used to imagine it in that filthy cage, thinking it would be an escape.

But now, staring into the eyes of death itself, I realized how terrifying it truly was, especially when it came with fangs and claws.

Suddenly, a surge of yellow overcame my vision, my body instinctively shifting into a defensive stance, fangs bared with a hiss.

It seemed that the sight of the enemy triggered an automatic response within me—to fight back.