Blood & Moonlight

Chapter 1: Crimson Collision

The rain fell gently over the city of New Haven.

Tall buildings reached into the night sky, glowing with cold neon lights. But deep in the older parts of the city—far from humans and the rules they made—there stood a quiet ruin. An old cathedral, forgotten by time. Its roof had fallen in. Ivy crept along its broken walls. Wind moved through the shattered stained glass like a whisper.

Someone stepped inside.

His boots made soft sounds on the stone floor. Long black coat trailing behind him, wet with rain. Pale skin. Eyes the color of fresh blood. Sharp, quiet, and calm.

Lucien Virelles, a vampire.

He stood in the center of the empty church, listening.

He wasn’t here to pray. Vampires didn’t believe in gods. He was here for another reason—one that made his body tense and his mind alert.

Three people had been killed here in the last two nights.

Two were humans. One was a werewolf.

Lucien wasn’t sure who did it, but something felt wrong. The killings weren’t clean. They were messy—violent, full of fear. A rogue, maybe. Or something worse.

He closed his eyes and breathed in.

Blood. Burnt metal. Wet stone. And—

His eyes snapped open.

Wolf. Nearby. Watching.

Lucien turned—but too slowly.

A hand slammed him against the wall. Hard, but not enough to hurt him. Claws pressed against his throat. A deep growl rumbled in his ear.

“You picked the wrong place to wander, leech.”

Lucien blinked.

Then, very slowly, he smirked.

“And you picked the wrong vampire to pin against a wall.”

The voice behind the growl was low and rough. “You’re not welcome here.”

Lucien didn’t flinch. “I go where I want.”

“Not tonight.”

He was finally able to see the one holding him.

A werewolf.

Young—maybe a little older than Lucien looked. Tall, lean, with dark hair and silver streaks falling over his eyes. Muscles tight under a torn black hoodie. Golden-amber eyes, glowing in the dim light. And a scar across his chest, like an old wound that hadn’t healed properly.

Lucien stared at him. He wasn’t just strong—he was wild. Dangerous.

But Lucien didn’t feel afraid. Instead… he felt curious.

“Let go,” he said quietly, “before this turns into a mistake.”

The werewolf didn’t move. His claws stayed near Lucien’s throat, not quite cutting.

“You smell like fire,” he muttered.

Lucien raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

The wolf tilted his head. “But you feel cold.”

There was a long pause.

Lucien whispered, “You’re not from any of the city packs. Rogue?”

The wolf’s jaw tightened. “That’s none of your business.”

“Then stop making it mine.”

Another pause.

Their eyes locked. The moment stretched.

Neither of them moved.

Then—

Boom.

A sudden noise echoed through the cathedral. A loud, heavy sound from outside—followed by a flash of light. Both Lucien and the werewolf turned their heads.

Hunters.

Lucien cursed under his breath. “Of course. The night just got worse.”

“Were they following you?” the wolf asked.

Lucien shook his head. “They never need a reason.”

The walls shook again. Someone shouted.

“We have to move,” Lucien said. “Now.”

“I don’t trust you.”

Lucien gave a soft, bitter laugh. “Good. You shouldn’t. But if we stay here, they’ll kill us both.”

For a second, the werewolf didn’t answer.

Then he stepped back. Let go of Lucien.

“I know a way out,” he said. “Follow me.”

Lucien hesitated.

Then nodded.

The two of them slipped through the broken halls of the cathedral, side by side but not yet together. Each kept a little distance. Each watched the other from the corner of their eye.

Outside, the rain kept falling. But inside, something else had begun.

Not trust.

Not yet.

But something like a spark. Faint. Strange.

And quietly dangerous.

End of Chapter 1

Blood & Moonlight

Chapter 2: Shelter and Silence

The streets of Sector 9 were nearly empty.

Lucien and the rogue werewolf moved quickly but quietly through alleys and abandoned buildings. The air was heavy with the smell of rain and rust. Somewhere in the distance, the hum of a hunter drone passed overhead.

Neither of them spoke.

Lucien’s coat dragged slightly in puddles, water dripping from his sleeves. His sharp eyes watched everything—shadows, rooftops, the glow of cameras in the dark.

The werewolf led without looking back. His stride was long and confident, even barefoot on wet ground. His hoodie clung to his back, soaked and torn. Steam rose off his skin, the heat of his body resisting the cold night.

Finally, he stopped in front of a half-collapsed apartment building.

“We’ll be safe here for now,” he said.

Lucien raised an eyebrow. “This place?”

“Hunters don’t check ruins twice. It’s quiet. And dry—mostly.”

Lucien followed him through a cracked doorway and up a stairwell missing half its steps. Broken furniture and torn curtains littered the rooms, but one corner had been cleared. A thin mattress. A candle. Some dried herbs hung from the ceiling.

It wasn’t much.

But it felt... lived in.

Lucien glanced around. “This is your den?”

The werewolf didn’t answer at first. He sat down on the mattress and began wringing water from his hair.

“It’s temporary,” he said finally. “I move often.”

Lucien stood by the window, watching the fog roll in across the street. His red eyes glowed faintly.

“You’re not from here,” he said.

“No.”

“Why are you in New Haven?”

The werewolf met his gaze. “Why are you in New Haven?”

Lucien smiled, just a little. “Touché.”

Another silence passed between them. It wasn’t hostile anymore—but not comfortable either.

“I’m Lucien,” he said after a moment. “Lucien Virelles.”

The werewolf raised an eyebrow. “As in... House Virelles? The vampire nobility?”

Lucien gave a small shrug. “Unfortunately.”

The werewolf looked at him longer this time. “I’ve heard stories. About you.”

“All true, I’m sure,” Lucien said dryly. “And you are?”

The werewolf hesitated.

Then, finally: “Rael.”

Lucien nodded slowly. “Rael.”

He liked how the name felt. Sharp. Brief. Fitting.

Rael shifted, crossing his arms over his knees. “I don’t usually deal with vampires.”

Lucien smirked. “You’re doing alright so far.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

Lucien turned back toward the window. “I didn’t ask for yours either. Yet here we are.”

Rael didn’t reply.

The candle on the floor flickered, casting a soft light over their faces.

For the first time, Lucien noticed the fine lines around Rael’s eyes. The way he watched everything—even Lucien’s hands, his breath, the way he stood. Like someone used to danger.

“Who were you before you went rogue?” Lucien asked, voice low.

Rael’s jaw tensed. “That’s not your business.”

“I didn’t say it was. I’m just... curious.”

Rael looked away. “Curiosity gets people killed.”

“True,” Lucien said. “But boredom kills me faster.”

The corner of Rael’s mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.

Lucien sat down against the far wall. He leaned back, one knee up, resting his arm lazily over it. “We make a strange pair.”

“I wouldn’t call us a pair.”

Lucien chuckled softly. “Not yet.”

Rael shot him a glare.

Lucien’s smile didn’t fade.

The rain outside continued, soft and steady.

Rael stood and walked to a metal cabinet in the corner. He pulled out a dry towel and tossed it toward Lucien. “You’ll catch cold.”

Lucien caught it, surprised. “Vampires don’t get sick.”

Rael sat back down. “Still. You look half drowned.”

Lucien wiped his hair slowly, still watching the wolf from under his lashes. “You're not as heartless as you act.”

“I’m not kind either.”

“Good,” Lucien said. “I don’t like kind people. They usually want something.”

Rael leaned back, resting his head against the wall.

The silence between them felt different now.

Not sharp.

Just... quiet.

Safe.

“I don’t know what you’re really doing in New Haven, Lucien,” Rael said, eyes half closed. “But if you bring hunters to my door again, I won’t be so friendly.”

Lucien gave a slow nod. “Fair enough.”

They sat like that for a while, the only sound the soft rhythm of rain against broken glass.

Lucien didn’t realize when he started to relax.

And Rael didn’t realize when he started to trust.

But something was beginning.

Something slow.

Something fragile.

And very, very real.

End of Chapter 2

Blood & Moonlight

Chapter 3: Names and Nightfall

Word Count: ~2,100

Rael lit another candle.

The soft flame flickered as he pressed the match against the old wood shelf, then tossed it into a tin cup half-filled with ash. The room smelled of smoke and something faintly herbal—lavender, maybe, or dried wolfroot.

Lucien watched him from across the room.

They hadn’t spoken for a while. Just sat, breathing the same air, not quite looking at each other.

Rael broke the silence first.

“Why do you care about those killings?”

Lucien blinked. The question was sudden, quiet, but not casual.

He leaned his head against the wall and answered honestly.

“Because they weren’t clean.”

Rael narrowed his eyes.

“Vampire kills are clean,” Lucien continued. “Fast. Quiet. No mess, no noise. This wasn’t that.”

Rael said nothing.

“And werewolves,” Lucien added, “don’t kill like this either. Not unless they’ve lost control. Which... is rare.”

Rael’s gaze dropped for a second. “Not as rare as you think.”

Lucien tilted his head slightly, studying him.

Rael didn’t look away—but he didn’t explain, either.

After a beat, Lucien said, “You think it was a rogue.”

Rael nodded slowly. “Maybe. Or something worse.”

Lucien’s voice softened. “You’ve seen it before?”

Rael didn’t answer.

Not with words.

But the way his shoulders stiffened told Lucien everything.

He looked down at his own hands, at the faint shimmer of power in his veins. The moon hadn’t risen fully tonight, but it was there. Waiting. Watching.

“I didn’t come to New Haven to play detective,” Lucien said after a while. “But when monsters start killing each other in the dark... someone has to notice.”

Rael stood up and walked to the window. The city beyond was a ghost—foggy and distant, lit only by blinking security lights and the silent glow of drones.

“Your kind always notices too late,” he said. “After the blood dries.”

Lucien nodded slowly. “Maybe.”

Rael’s voice dropped lower. “So what will you do?”

Lucien stood. Walked toward him.

He stopped a few steps behind, careful not to crowd him. “Find out what’s hiding here. And stop it. If I can.”

Rael turned slightly, golden eyes meeting red. “Why?”

Lucien’s lips parted like he might say something clever.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he spoke plainly. “Because if this spreads… it won’t just be humans dying. It’ll be us too.”

Rael didn’t move for a long time.

Then he said, very quietly, “Then I’ll help.”

Lucien blinked. “What?”

“I’ll help,” Rael repeated, looking out the window again. “Until we find what’s killing people.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t even trust me.”

“I don’t need to trust you,” Rael replied. “I just need to stop whatever’s out there.”

Lucien exhaled slowly. “Fair.”

They stood side by side, watching the quiet city, the shadows stretching like ghosts across the rooftops.

The rain had stopped.

But the clouds hadn’t left.

Lucien’s voice broke the silence again.

“What happened to your pack?”

Rael’s body stiffened. His jaw tightened. But his answer came, soft and heavy.

“They’re gone.”

Lucien waited.

Rael didn’t say more.

Lucien didn’t press.

A long silence followed.

Then Rael asked, “What happened to your heart?”

Lucien blinked, surprised.

“My heart?”

“You act like you don’t feel anything,” Rael said, voice low. “But you keep looking at me like you want to.”

Lucien said nothing at first.

Then he smiled.

But it was tired. Small.

“I forgot what it’s like to feel anything and mean it.”

Rael studied him, searching his face.

“You’re not what I expected.”

Lucien looked back. “Neither are you.”

Rael sat down again, pulling a blanket over his shoulders. “You’re still a vampire.”

Lucien smirked. “And you’re still a wolf.”

“Don’t forget it.”

Lucien sat beside him, not too close, not too far.

The candle between them flickered again.

“I’ll sleep a few hours,” Rael said. “You should too.”

“Vampires don’t sleep.”

Rael raised an eyebrow. “Then sit quietly and don’t watch me.”

Lucien chuckled softly. “No promises.”

Rael gave him a tired glare, but didn’t argue.

As the candlelight dimmed, the room grew quieter. Lucien leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He didn’t sleep—but he rested.

Rael’s breathing slowed, steady and deep.

And in the stillness of that moment, something changed.

Not loud.

Not sudden.

Just the gentle shift of two broken things, leaning slightly toward each other.

End of Chapter 3