Name: BLOOD MOON LOVE
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Chapter 1 Bloodlines

Elijah's POV.

George leaned into the rain, hustling toward the high school with a busted umbrella-the thing was bent to hell and barely holding up against the downpour and gusting wind.

His movements were sketchy, his eyes shifty. If you asked me, the guy didn't know where he was going, but his body seemed dead set on the path anyway, like it was running on autopilot.

"Here we go again," Ghiban muttered, flicking his cigarette to the ground and grinding it out with his heel.

Mack ruffled his hair, "I have a clear shot, boss, " I could hear the clank as the trigger pulled back, "wouldn't mind taking him out,"

"Not now, " I said, lowering the gun with my hand.

Dominic was slouched against the window, feet up like he didn't have a care in the world, while Sparrow stood behind him, rubbing the back of his neck like he was itching to kill someone. His hand stayed glued to the hilt of his blade-the damn thing sharp enough to cut through shadows like they were butter.

"Look at this fool," I muttered, my brow twitching as I watched George stumble closer to the school. His instincts might've been screaming at him, but he either didn't care or didn't hear 'em. We had one thing left on the checklist tonight: cleaning house. And George Russo? He was smack in the middle of that list.

The boys and I were posted up in an abandoned building across Windsor Street, staying low and out of sight. A mile away, tops, watching him like hawks.

We weren't here for games. This was business, plain and simple. Time to wipe the city clean of every last bloodsucker crawling around, and George? Yeah, he was about to learn what happens when you land on the wrong side of our list.

When George ducked into the school, the rain rolling off his back, we didn't waste a second. Sparrow was the first to move, leaping off the building without hesitation, landing in a crouch like it was nothing. I followed right after him, the rush of the wind hitting my face as my boots slammed onto the pavement below.

This is what we did for fun. Call it werewolf instincts or just plain recklessness, but there was something about the thrill of a chase, the raw adrenaline, that got the blood pumping.

Sparrow strode ahead, his shoulders square, his expression like he owned the place. Without breaking stride, he yanked the door clean off its hinges and tossed it aside like it was made from cardboard.

"Subtle," Dominic muttered, rolling his eyes as he walked in after him. He adjusted his leather jacket, brushing a hand through his dark hair. "You ever think about leaving some doors intact, or is destruction just your hobby now?"

"Don't get jealous, Dom. It takes finesse to do what I do "

Sparrow said, his fingers twitching at his sides. He was restless, that blade of his practically humming with anticipation.

I stepped in behind them, the stale scent of the old school hitting me like a wall. Memories of chalkboards and sweaty gym socks mixed with something darker-something that prickled at the edge of my senses.

"This place gives me the creeps," Dominic muttered, kicking a piece of debris out of his way. His voice dropped a notch, more serious now. "You sure this is the spot? Never figured vampires would...you know, nest in a high school."

"Well, it makes sense if you think about it," I said, scanning the shadows. "Plenty of places to hide. And teenagers are easy prey."

"Teenagers," Dominic repeated, his jaw tightening. "My brother went to this school." His voice dipped even lower, almost a growl. I didn't miss the way his hand tightened into a fist at his side.

Sparrow cut in, his tone sharp. "Focus, Dom. We're not here to reminisce."

He was right, even if he sounded like a dick saying it. The stakes were too high to let personal baggage get in the way.

Here's the rundown: vampires had pushed into Whispering Woods, our territory. The pack-my pack, led by my twin brother Elkan-was supposed to have this under control. But no, my father had gone and struck some half-baked alliance with the leeches. Thought it would keep the peace. Spoiler alert: it didn't.

Now people are dying every night. Bodies showing up ripped apart, drained of blood. And the pack? Clueless.

George Russo, the guy we'd been tailing for weeks, was at the center of this mess. A vampire who somehow wasn't affected by sunlight. That alone made him a freak of nature, even by supernatural standards. Reports said he was working for someone-or something-that had burrowed deep under this school. That's why we were here. To find out what was going on and put a stop to it.

The sound of our footsteps echoed through the empty halls. The place felt...off. Like the air was heavier than it should've been, thick with something I couldn't quite name.

Dominic broke the silence, his voice low. "What's the plan, Elijah? We storm in, claws blazing, or we play this smart?"

"Smart," I said, scanning the corridor ahead. "For once."

Sparrow snorted, his lips quirking into a smirk. "You? Smart? This I gotta see."

"Keep talking, Sparrow, and I'll let you take the lead when we find out what's nesting down there," I shot back.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, boss. Just trying to lighten the mood."

We rounded a corner, and I caught it-the faintest trace of something metallic in the air. Blood. Old, but not too old.

I stopped, holding up a hand. "You smell that?"

Sparrow sniffed the air, his face darkening. "Yeah. Blood. Fresh enough to be recent."

Dominic swore under his breath, his shoulders tensing. "This just keeps getting better."

We moved quieter now, every sense on high alert. The scent led us to a stairwell, the door hanging ajar. It was dark as hell down there, the kind of darkness that felt alive, like it was watching you.

Sparrow glanced at me, his hand already on his blade. "What's the call?"

I hesitated, just for a second. "We go in. Quiet. Keep your eyes open and your mouths shut."

Sparrow smirked, his teeth flashing in the dim light. "Quiet? From you? This I gotta see."

Ghiban chuckled.

I ignored him, stepping into the stairwell. The air was colder down here, damp and stale. Every step felt like a risk, like something was waiting just out of sight.

This was it. The part where everything could go to hell in an instant. But that's the thing about being a werewolf. You don't back down. Not when your pack is on the line.

And definitely not when there's a vampire with your name on their hit list

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