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We both turn to survey the aftermath of the battle, and I notice that Lyra has her father, Rowan, pinned to the ground, her massive paw against his chest. Saliva drips from her jaws as she snarls in his face.
“I showed you mercy,” Rowan screams, his words cutting through the chaos. I can’t believe he recognizes the beast as his daughter, but his words confirm it. He knows it’s Lyra. “Your brother had his mind set on doing you in, I stepped right up and put a stop to him. Saved your hide.”
My mind races, searching for a way to diffuse the volatile situation. I know that vengeance boils within Lyra, her desire for retribution consuming her. But I also know that deep down, she loves her father. The loyalty she held for him was unwavering. I can’t let her make a decision she’ll regret, a decision that will forever tarnish the memory of the love she once had for him.
Approaching Lyra cautiously, I reach out to touch her, my voice filled with empathy and determination. “Little wolf, I understand your anger and your pain. But killing your father won’t bring you the peace you seek. It will only haunt you, eroding the love and loyalty you hold within.”
Her fierce eyes lock with mine, and I see a flicker of conflicting emotions. Her snarls soften momentarily, her grip on Rowan loosening.
I press on, my voice unwavering. “Remember the wonderful times you shared with him. The love and the bond you cherished. Honor that part of him, not the part that betrayed you.”
“It’s all ’cause of you, ain’t it? You done turned her into one of them monstrous critters,” Rowan screams.
“I didn’t do this; it was all you and your sons. You are her father; you were supposed to accept her, but your hatred for my kind led you to reject her, to throw her body into the forest like she was nothing but a piece of trash. Can’t you see the pain you’ve caused?”
Lyra’s growls intensify, her body tensing with anger. I continue, my voice steady yet filled with urgency. “Your father may have failed you, but you have a choice now. You can rise above his cruelty and find solace in preserving the love you once had for him.”
Rowan’s face contorts with anger and guilt, but his words still carry venom. “She’s a monster! She’ll always be a monster!”
I turn to him and shake my head. “Lyra is everything that is good in this ugly world. She’s a beautiful soul who deserves love and respect, and I will be the one to give it to her. We will show you mercy; your sons are dead, half your pack is dead, and you can live with the knowledge that your bloodline stops here.”
Lyra snorts in her father’s face, the equivalent of a human spitting in the face of someone who has insulted them, but she removes her paw from his chest, allowing him to scramble to his feet. Despair clouds his face as he looks around, motioning to the remaining members of the pack. They exchange hesitant glances, their loyalty wavering.
In that moment, a mixture of anger, defeat, and realization settles upon the alpha’s features. He raises his head high, trying to maintain a semblance of dominance. But it’s clear to everyone that the fight has left him.
A low, rumbling growl echoes through the clearing as the pack members, one by one, turn and slink away. As the last of them disappears into the shadows, Rowan’s shoulders slump, his once proud posture reduced to a defeated stoop. He meets Lyra’s gaze, a mixture of resignation and hate etched upon his face, but it is too late. Without uttering a word, he turns away, disappearing into the depths of the forest, the weight of his failures trailing behind him.
I watch as the remnants of the pack fade into the night, their departure leaving an eerie silence in the clearing. The heavy tension that had filled the air moments ago now dissipates, replaced by a sense of emptiness. I can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness for what has transpired and for the fractured bond between Lyra and her own kind. She has emerged victorious, but her victory holds a weight far greater than defeating her own kin.
Lyra collapses to the ground, and she starts to convulse. I surmise that she is undergoing her transformation, so I give her space even though I want nothing more than to go to her and comfort her.
“Indeed, behold as she reverts to her former self, satiated by her desire for retribution, and the savage nature relinquishes its hold upon her,” Marcus says as he comes to stand by my side.
“The question is, once she transforms, is she human or vampire?” I ask.
“Indubitably, my friend, the answer remains elusive. It is plausible that neither option holds true, or perchance, both shall come to pass. Patience is paramount as we await the unfolding of events.
I watch with a mix of anticipation and concern as Lyra undergoes the painful transformation from beast to human. Her body contorts in spasms, muscles tensing and releasing in a chaotic dance.
Her snarls are an opus of pain and effort, as her bones realign and reshape themselves. Her snarls turn into guttural cries of anguish, echoing through the clearing. It’s a sight that both mesmerizes and frightens me, for I can see the toll it takes on her.
Beneath her fur, her body elongates and contorts, limbs shifting and reshaping. She arches her back, her spine seeming to stretch and lengthen. The pain etched on her face tells a story of sacrifice and rebirth. Her cries grow more desperate, her voice cracking with the effort of embracing her humanity.
And then, in a breathtaking moment, her transformation reaches its crescendo, and I find myself staring at the woman I love lying naked on the ground before me. Her once sleek coat of fur has been replaced by a cascade of blonde hair that frames her delicate features. Her body, still trembling from the strain of the transformation, is now human.
I take off my shirt and drop to my knees beside her, covering her with it. My hands tremble as I reach out to touch her cheek. Her skin isn’t warm beneath my fingertips, but cold like mine.
“Love, you came back to me.”
Her fangs elongate, and her eyes emit a fiery crimson glow. “I’m hungry, so famished,” she whispers, her voice low and raspy. But how can she be hungry when she recently feasted on her brothers?
“It appears that she is in dire need of sustenance, specifically in the form of your life-giving essence. It seems that she requires sustenance by drawing upon your vital fluid.”
The realization dawns upon me: she is no longer human. She has transformed into a vampire like myself, granting us immortality and the prospect of spending eternity together. The overwhelming happiness that engulfs me is beyond words.
I lean back and expose the side of my throat, for I am her willing slave. “Go ahead, love. Quench your thirst.”
Like an untamed creature, she lunges at me, her fangs penetrating my flesh as she greedily draws deep from my veins. I fucking revel in it, my cock hardening at the sensation of her taking what she needs from me. My own hunger rises, but this moment is not about me.
