Shifting Fates: Veil of the Forgotten

Ch. 9

“Bound to the Beast“

Inside, a storm is brewing. Dread claws into my bones, gripping tight, while a sharp chill slices up my spine. I am teetering on the edge of something darker that I know, and the unknown is calling my name as the beast within lies in wait. Not to mention the dangerous skulking past the trees waiting for me to falter.

Snarky, desperate shit. That is what I have always been, even when I could barely stand on my own two feet and may get devoured soon.

A flicker of a memory tugs at the corners of my mind, something distant, yet so crisp it feels like it could cut through the fog of exhaustion. Devlyn. The morning we spent together, her sharp storm brewed eyes catching every detail I tried to hide.

“Why do you look like you fought a nest of angry hawks?” Her voice, as clear as ever, pierced through the memory. I showed up to our training late, covered in half-faded scratches, and bruises that had begun to heal but hadn’t quite vanished yet. A new inked reminder laced around my ankle.

I tried to shrug it off, brushing my hands down my arms like I could erase them. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing, huh?” Devlyn never accepted nothing, as an answer. She never pried, but there was a way her gaze would linger — just long enough to let me know she wasn’t fooled. “If you keep letting ‘nothing’ pile up, you’ll collapse under the weight of it.”

I remember standing there, arms crossed, feeling raw and hollow, but not ready to crack open. Not then. She knew it, too. So instead of pushing, she smirked and said, “Alright, uppercut practice. You’re getting taller, but not tall enough for most of your opponents.”

Her hand gripped mine, positioning it under an imaginary opponent’s jaw, showing me how to snap my fist upward. “When you’re going up against someone taller…which is a lot, your best bet is to get in close — here.” She tapped the underside of her chin. “Doesn’t matter how strong or tall they are if you can hit this right. Let’s work on that.”

We spent hours on the training mats after that. Each punch, each repetition, wore me down until the ache in my arms drowned out the mess in my head. And by the end, I was too tired to think.

At least Devlyn would be proud of my defiance. She always believed in my strength, even when everyone else — including myself — saw only weakness. Her presence was a reminder of my potential, of what I could be if I kept pushing. But she wouldn’t be thrilled with me right now. I can almost hear her biting commentary. You unmask your weak spot, hands up. The weight of her absence presses in, the doubt creeps into my bones like a poison.

Am I strong enough to face the outside world? The doubt claws at my mind, leaving its poison behind, making me question everything. I feel my heart quicken. I can't afford to be weak. Not now. Not with the beast stirring beneath my skin, sensing the rise of my emotion like it always does, it moves when my control slips.

Devlyn would have said something cynical yet encouraging, cutting right through my fear with her dry wit. But without her here, the fear begins to slither. I can feel the dread causing the coldness within to spread, the beast pressing hard against the mental door in my mind. Remarkably, I haven't already lost myself to it, to the chaos of my own powers. Given everything I’ve been through, it’s a miracle I’m not a husk of my former self. Maybe it’s reckless, but what choice do I have?

The darkness outside might be dangerous, but it is nothing compared to the war going on within me. My powers, my beast — they’re wild, clawing for freedom. We’re both on the edge, and I slip, we both be unleashed.

The chill in the air sharpens, cutting through my thoughts like a blade. My breath fogs in the air, pulling me back to the present. I need to remain focused.

It’s a miracle I haven’t crumbled to dust under my own reckless choices. I didn’t kill him — though I thought about it, and I almost did.

“I warned you,” I say, my voice carrying a chill that lingers in the air. “And you turned it into a challenge.”

I watch my breath form clouds with each exhale, the coldness trickling through the cracks in my mental door. What is happening? This exchange has drained me more than any of the other times, and I didn’t even finish. An annoying, nagging thought tugs at me — did I hurt him? I glance around for my satchel, but it’s nowhere to be seen.

My eyes do catch, however, a small rock nestled among some leaves. “I always finish my challenges,” I add, forcing a smirk. But inside, I know the stakes are higher than I anticipated.

The vampire stumbles against a tree, his strength draining fast. A flicker of concern twist in my gut — shit. I shove it aside. I can’t afford to care. I am in the same vessel, though my life force will hopefully recover soon — if I can just feed it.

My eyes feel heavy, and dread pools in my gut as I realize I might not be able to restore what I let slip through my lips.

If I don’t regain my strength soon, the beast inside me will shred through my mind, body, and soul. The dread tightens, cold and relentless. I know what I need to do — kill, consume, survive. There’s no avoiding it.

Hunger gnaws at me, more than ever, and if I don’t feed soon, I will be the one left wholly vulnerable, an easy target for whatever monstrosity hides in the forest depths. A bitter taste of irony settles in my throat. I don’t want to unleash the beast, but if I don’t, I risk becoming food myself.

The vampire looks at me, a flash of realization in his eyes as he approaches, understanding that I’m not just a normal bat. Fortunately, he is moving much slower than before, which is a relief. I notice the darkness that once moved off him like a living part of him, is disappearing — vanishing. His shadows flicker, pulsing with a last, desperate life. They form shapes — bats, or maybe it just my spinning head — before fading like smoke, leaving only moonlight and the sharp edges of his face.

They move desperately around the sharp angles of the vampire’s face, whispering final words to him, and as they finally fade, their absence feels like a gaping void as moonlight takes over the area, leaving the vampire momentarily bewildered. The shadows that had once cloaked him fade like smoke, revealing sharp angles and unsettling curiosity etched in his face that makes my skin crawl.

But, my mind moves to the task at hand, summoning the last of my strengths, I grab the rock and hurl it at the vampire as he moves closer, just for good measure. A last, desperate grab for control as the world tilts around me.

The rock pings off his forehead, and he crumples with a groan, his fingers finding the smear of red. He stares at the blood on his fingers, mesmerized, while it drops to the ground.

“Even the smallest creatures can bite.” His voice is soft, almost amused. “Who knew a bat and a rock could leave a mark?” His stare snaps back to me, and he stands, moving toward me again, though now he wobbles slightly with each step.

“Something wrong?” I mutter. I definitely should have killed him. Shit.

I feel so brittle and so cold. Ultimately, he reaches me and is standing over me like a towering tree — or like an Onkiuma does before taking a farmer’s prized livestock.

“I feel… different.” His voice wavers, uncertain.

I glance at him, too tired to care. “At least you’re not dead.”

“What? I mean, no…” He glares at me with a sense of confusion, and then that common smirk moves with the angles of his face. “Oh, how wicked the gods and goddesses are.”

I steal another glance, assessing his posture, observing his muscles — waiting for the moment he strikes. Although I’m not in a position to stop it, I can at least prepare and close my eyes.

The darkness is gone, replaced by cold moonlight wrapping us in its pale glow. But there’s no comfort in it, only the weight of what may come next.

“How’s your head?” I offer a weak grin, but it slips away as exhaustion drags me down. A swollen knot where the rock hit is visible on his forehead. Even in this state, my aim is still good.

A small, weak grin crosses my face before quickly fading from the amount of energy it requires. A knot formed where the rock made contact is noticeable on the forehead of the vampire. I have good aim as a bat even in this state. “Does it hurt?” I ask, knowing the answer.

Blood runs down his temple, tracing a path along his cheek. My eyes lock onto it, hunger stirring deep inside me. It is the most terrifying, maddening thing I have seen in a long time.

I watch his face as he struggles to decide which emotion he wants to feel. A flick of bewilderment, curiosity, and finally surprise. We’re more evenly matched now, or at least mortality-wise. Or at least I hope?

“How…?” He stares at his hands, panic flashing across his face. Then his eyes snap to me, sharp and demanding. “What are you?” His gaze sweeps over me, taking in my slumped body. For a heartbeat, his cerulean eyes widen in alarm, reflecting a flash of genuine concern. But then, as quickly as it appeared, the worry vanished, replaced by a neutral, composed expression. “Whatever you did, it drained you, too.”

Before he can process what is happening, a low growl cuts through the air, shaking the ground beneath us. Heavy paws pound against the mud, rattling our already fragile states.

The vampire’s head snaps toward the noise, cerulean eyes narrowing as he scans the surrounding darkness. I try to follow his gaze, but my body is too drained, too weak. My body trembles, and the cold bites deeper into my bones.

“We aren’t alone,” the vampire murmurs, his eyes darting around as his fingers brush the knot forming on his forehead. “Must have smelt the growing harvest platter we are becoming.”

Some underbrush rustles. A hulking figure, half-man, half-wolf, emerges from the shadows. Its nostrils flare, taking in the scent of blood, sweat, and exhaustion. Another one soon follows, its yellow eyes locking on me as it takes a long sniff.

“Smells like…” One of the half bloods growls, its voice a twisted mix of human and beast. Its nose lifts, catching the air. “The angry queen. Her scent still lingers like a curse. We remember her wrath. You’re treading on dangerous ground.”

“Brother, focus, smell past that? Weak and ripe. A feast waiting just for us,” another chimes in, its tongue flicking across its fangs.

My legs wobble beneath me, the fog creeping into my mind. My body is giving up, betraying me. Panic grips me at my thoughts — if I fail now, will I ever be free? Or is this my end?

My heart pounds in my chest, echoing through my muscles and bones. I trained every day for moments like this, but now, my limbs were sluggish, my strength diminished.

Focus.

The two HalfBloods circle us, their noses twitching, savoring our scent. One of them leans close to the vampire, its blackened claws stretching toward his face. “We smelled you before, but now it is different.” The HalfBlood sneers. “What happened? Lost your bite?”

The vampire doesn't even bother looking up. “How original,” he drawls, casually dusting off his clothes, as if we aren’t seconds away from being torn apart.” You must be the brains of the pack.” The HalfBloods grin falters, and a low growl escapes its throat, but the vampire remains unfazed. “Tell me,” he continues, tilting his head toward the creature. “Do you always state the obvious, or is that just a special talent?”

I stifle a laugh, though it comes out more like a ragged breath. My body teeters on the edge of collapse, but the vampire’s nonchalance was oddly reassuring. If nothing else, he wasn’t panicking — yet.

The first HalfBlood takes a menacing step forward, its claws flexing, eyes narrowing at the vampire. “You think this is funny, bloodsucker?”

The vampire shrugs, but there is a flicker of irritation beneath his smirk. “Mildly, yes. You lot are always so serious — tragic, really.”

I can see the rage building in the HalfBlood, the low grumble of its growl vibrating through the ground beneath my feet. The Half bloods swells with fury, its muscles rippling beneath filthy, matted fur. Its yellow eyes gleam, pupils blown wide with rage. A snarl twists its lips, revealing jagged teeth too large for its mouth, jutting out like broken bones. Thick strings a drool drip from its mouth, dripping onto the forest floor in thick, viscous strings.

The creature’s chest heaves, with each shuddering breath. Its sickle-like claws tear into the ground, gouging the earth as its muscles tense, ready to spring. It’s holding back, but I’m not sure how much longer that will last.

Its fur, a mix of dark grays, and tawny browns, bristling along its broad, hunched back, making it appear even larger — more beast than man.

The leaner Halfbloods circles us, its eyes flickering between me and the vampire with cold, predatory calculation. Its limb are unnaturally long, and each step was marked by the sound of crunching leaves underfoot. A thin scar runs across its snout, and its leathery nose twitches, savoring our scent.

I swallow hard, my throat dry. They look more like nightmares come to life than anything resembling wolves or men. They are something far worse, older, seeping in raw primal savagery that sends chills crawling up my spine.

The first HalfBlood’s rage bubbles over, its growl deepening as it straightens to its full height — towering over the vampire by at least a foot. Its eyes, glowing a blazing yellow, bore down on the vampire, and I could feel its thirst for violence, its need to rip, tear, and consume. Every muscle in its body coiled tight, ready to pounce.

The second one stops, its eyes burrowing into me. “This one is different,” it hisses, sniffing the air around me. “Strong, but fading.” His nose works hard trying to figure out a fresh smell that is moving through the area. “It smells like fish.”

The vampire smirks, throwing me a sideways glance. “Well, you heard the man — or hound. You’re quite the catch.” He raises his eyebrows, his eyes flick behind the HalfBloods.

The tension hangs thick in the air, like a moment before a storm, as the Halfy Bloods loom over us. The first one takes another step forward, fangs bared, claws twitching in anticipation. I clench my teeth, wishing I had more strength left, something — anything — to protect myself. Devlyn is going to be pissed.

The Halfblood closest to me, nose is working hard, trying to figure out an unfamiliar smell that is moving with the breeze. “It smells like water…”

My heart races, and a chill runs down my spine. Not of fear, but recognition. I knew that sound, that smell, that presence. There is no way he found me. The forest is ENDLESS.

But then, from deep within the forest, a howl echoes through the trees like a shockwave. It wasn’t the low, guttural growl of the HalfBloods. No, this was something bigger, darker, and far more terrifying, but not to me.

The sound stirs something old inside me, something familiar. A memory slips through the cracks of my mind.

I was back in my room, the air was thick with the buzzing hum of the wards surrounding me. I can feel their pulse, a dull vibration under my skin that intensifies as I am jolted awake from a nightmare long forgotten. Suddenly the fear starts to vanish, and it is replaced with a serene calm through the air.

In the haze of my nightmare, the figure loomed, shadowed and immense, filling the doorway. I should have been terrified, but instead, I felt… home.

The HalfBlood stiffens in front of me, and my mind moves to the reality outside my head. The HalfBloods eyes, once locked on us with predatory hunger, dart toward the darkness. The larger one lets out a snarl, but I could sense the fear creeping into its movement, a hesitation that hadn’t been there before. The second Half Blood sniffs the air, ears twitching, its long claws retracting slightly, as if suddenly unsure of its place.

A bone-chilling howl pierces the air, one that has the surrounding creatures frozen with uncertainty, but as a smile moving across my teeth.

“He is coming,” I whisper, watching as the two Half Bloods’ eyes shift uneasily. “He is going to be angry. More at you than me.” I hope. My heart races at the thought of the beast lurking in the trees — my protector, my wild card in this deadly game I am slowly losing.

The vampire glances between me and the beast, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Impeccable timing.”

The HalfBlood closest to me growls low in its throat, clearly torn between finishing what it started and fleeing from whatever threat now stalks them. But, then leaves rustle, branches snapping, and a large shadow darts past the tree line.

A second later, a third howl erupts — and this time, it was joined by snarls and the unmistakable sound of ripping flesh. Screams, throaty and feral, rise from the same direction. The HalfBloods jerk their heads toward the noise, their eyes wide, teeth still bared, but suddenly unsure what to do.

In a blur of white fur and fangs, a beast burst through the trees, a terrifying figure — larger, faster, and far more deadly than any HalfBlood. His long, muscular body moves with grace and raw power, his golden-ginger eyes shine with ferocity I have seen since I left. Blood spattered his snout, and the wild glint in his eyes told me everything I needed to know — this wasn’t just a rescue. This was a hunt.

The beast lets out a roar, the kind that made the earth tremble beneath our feet, and it charges at the first HalfBlood without hesitation.

The Half Blood barely has time to react before the beast’s powerful jaw clamps around its shoulder, tearing through fur and flesh like wet parchment. The HalfBlood shrieks in agony, swiping wildly with its claws, but the beast’s strength is unmatched. In a swift motion, the beast throws the HalfBlood as if it weighed nothing, sending it crashing into the trees.

The second HalfBlood, lets out a high-pitched whimper, glancing between its fallen companion and the beast, who was already turning toward it. Without a moment’s hesitation, the HalfBlood flees into the woods, disappearing into the shadows with the same speed it had arrived with.

The vampire glances between me and the beast, smirking despite the carnage unfolding around us. “That was impeccable timing.”

I exhale a shaky breath, my eyes watch, focused on the beast as if snarls over the crumpled Halfblood, daring it to rise. My body trembles, edging closer to collapse with every breath.

My eyes flutter, the weight of exhaustion pulling me toward blackness. My body shudders, every tremor dragging me closer to collapse. The world blurs, and limbs, my wings, tingle with creeping numbness. I fight to stay upright, but the edges of my vision darken. This time, it’s not just exhaustion — it’s the shadows, different, heavier, closing in, swallowing me whole.

No. NO.

Heavy and suffocating, as my vision blurs and the world around me fades. My strength slips away, pulling me into a dark abyss where I can’t tell where my power ends and the wild, primal hunger of the beast begins. It’s there, waiting, ravenous.

But the pull was relentless, each heartbeat resonating with the beast lurking in the depths of my mind, hungry to be free, just as much as I did. As the darkness closes in, I feel the chilling whisper in my mind, dark and inviting.

Soon.

Panic surges through my veins. What if I wake, and I’m not me anymore? What if I’m not me anymore? What if I’m just the beast, an echo of who I used to be, lost forever?

The ground trembles beneath me, and then soft fur surrounds me, enveloping my shaking body. The scent of pinecones, of damp earth and water, fills my senses. I feel weightless, darkness cradling me in its cold, unyielding embrace.

The last thing I see is white fur and fading moonlight — a fleeting glimpse of freedom — before the darkness closes in, swallowing me whole.