Blood and Luna

Mikhail gripped even harder the straps of his leather pack, one long look at the forest taking his golden-tinged eyes. The night was quiet, too quiet. He shifted his stance on the wet ground, carefully each step. He couldn't afford to draw attention-not this close to enemy territory.

"Stupid idea," he muttered under his breath. "Sneaking into vampire territory. Brilliant, Mikhail. Really."

The moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting jagged shadows. He'd been walking for hours, and muscle fatigue bit into him. But he couldn't stop now. The frontier of the vampire domain was no more than a mile away.

A low growl broke the silence, freezing Mikhail mid-step. His pulse quickened, and his senses sharpened. He sniffed the air-wolf scent, but something was wrong. It was weak, yet undeniable in an eerily familiar way, and that caused his spine to bristle.

Another growl, this time louder, closer.

Mikhail carefully unfastened the dagger attached to his thigh (a silver blade shimmeringly cast a faint light in the moonless night). "Show yourself," he called out, voice steady but low.

The response was immediate. A figure emerged from the shadows-hulking, ragged, and wild. The werewolf's fur was patchy, its eyes bloodshot. A rogue.

"Though I smelled a coward, the rogue sneered, voice guttural but human enough to be understood. "What's a pup like you doing this far out? Lost?"

Mikhail didn't flinch. "Not lost. Just passing through."

The rogue chuckled, a sound that sent a chill down Mikhail's spine. "Passing through? Don't lie to me, boy. No one crosses this border unless they're desperate. Or stupid."

Mikhail tightened his grip on the dagger. "Maybe I'm both."

The rogue's grin widened, revealing jagged teeth. "Bold. But boldness won't save you. This is my territory now. Do you want to pass? You pay the toll."

Mikhail tilted his head, forcing a smirk. "And what's the toll?"

"Your head," the rogue snarled, lunging without warning.

Mikhail barely had time to react, rolling to the side as claws slashed through the space he'd just occupied. The rogue was fast-faster than Mikhail expected. He jumped up and turned around, facing the growling monster.

It's not wise to do this, Mikhail said, his voice as steady as through a tide of adrenaline coursed through him.

The robber's reply was a roar, and he then rushed forth again. Mikhail ducked low, slashing out with his dagger. The blade hit home, penetrating the rogue's side.

The rogue howled in pain but didn't stop. He threw a huge arm, hitting Mikhail across the body and sending him thwack into a tree.

Pain came alive in the flanks of Mikhail, but he clenched his teeth and moved himself upright. "Fine," he spat, wiping blood from his mouth. "You want a fight? Let's fight."

The rogue hesitated for a moment, sniffing the air. His bloodshot eyes narrowed. "You smell like the pack. Alpha's blood runs through you, doesn't it?"

Mikhail didn't answer.

The rogue snarled. "You're one of his pups. I should've known. I'll enjoy ripping you apart."

Mikhail's eye gold flashed, instincts reanimated, wolf-like. "You can try."

The rogue lunged again, claws slashing. This time, Mikhail was ready. He parried, then spun around behind the thug and thrust his knife into his back. The rogue howled, swinging wildly, but Mikhail was already moving, landing a powerful kick to the back of its knee.

The rogue collapsed with a snarl, but he didn't stay down. He twisted, claws flashing as he caught Mikhail's arm.

Mikhail hissed as the claws ripped through his sleeve and into his flesh. He hit the rogue's jaw with his elbow and got out.

"You're good, the rogue panted, blood dripping from his wounds. "But you're not good enough."

Mikhail smirked, though his chest was heaving. "Guess we'll find out."

The rogue charged again, but this time, Mikhail didn't retreat. He confronted the attack face-on, by applying his inertia to bring down the deviant to the floor. They wrestled, rolling around in the dirt and foliage, all striving to hit the winning lick.

Mikhail's strength was waning. He could feel it-the rogue's weight pressing down on him, the sting of his injuries slowing him.

"Getting tired, pup? The rogue taunted, his claws inches from Mikhail's throat.

Mikhail clenched his teeth as best he could and managed all the remaining energy he could have in reserve. "Not yet."

With a flood of work, he wrenched, turning the madman over on his back. Before the beast could even react, Mikhail thrust his dagger into its chest cavity.

The rogue's pupils dilated and a strangled, guttural growl emanated from his mouth. Mikhail spun the blade, and the vagabond's body lay slack.

For a moment, Mikhail didn't move. He remained crouched on the body of the rogue, chest heavy, and the stench of blood permeated his nostrils.

Finally, he stood, pulling his dagger free. His arm throbbed where the rogue's claws had torn into him, but he didn't have time to tend to the wound. He bludgeoned the blade against his sleeve, sheathing the knife.

"Idiot," he muttered, glancing down at the rogue. "Could've walked away."

The wind blew through the trees, bringing a new smell. Mikhail's eyes narrowed. Vampire.

He turned, scanning the shadows. The scent was faint, but it was there. Someone was watching him.

"Come out," he called, voice low but firm.

No response.

Mikhail took a step forward, then another. The scent grew stronger, closer.

You've been watching me," he hissed, growling. "Show yourself."

Still, no response.

Mikhail's fingers twitched, itching to reach for his dagger. But he forced himself to stay calm. "Fine," he said, his voice colder now. "Stay in the shadows if you value your life. But if you come any closer, I won't hesitate to kill you, too.

A soft laugh echoed through the trees, light and haunting. "You're quite the fighter, wolf."

Mikhail's blood ran cold. The voice was feminine, soft, and unmistakably vampire.

Before he could respond, a figure stepped into the moonlight.

She was pale, her silver eyes gleaming like stars. Her beauty was otherworldly, almost unreal. However, the one thing that drew his gaze was the blemish on her cheek-a recognition he was all too familiar with.

"You..." Mikhail's voice trailed off, his golden eyes narrowing.

The woman looked sideways, a slight smile brushing her lips. "You've come a long way, wolf. But you're far from safe."

Mikhail tightened his jaw, his hand hovering near his dagger. "Who are you?"

The woman's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. "Someone you wish you never encountered."

Before Mikhail could react, she vanished into the shadows, leaving him alone in the moonlit forest.