Moonlit Prophecy: A Witchs Curse A Wolfs Redemption

They shared a grim look, both knowing what that likely meant. Steeling themselves, they continued upwards, following Fenris’s keen nose. The scent led them to a heavy oak door, ornately carved with scenes of hunt and slaughter.

Lyra pressed her ear to the wood, listening intently. From within, she could hear the soft sounds of feeding and the whimpers of a victim not yet fully drained. Her stomach churned, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

“The map is probably in there,” she murmured to Fenris. “But so is Valerian, and he’ll be at full strength after feeding. We need a distraction.”

Fenris nodded, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I have an idea. But you’re not going to like it.”

Before Lyra could protest, Fenris threw back his head and let out a bone-chilling howl. The sound echoed through the mansion, setting priceless crystalware rattling in its wake. From behind the door came a startled curse and the sound of a body hitting the floor.

“Are you insane?” Lyra hissed, but Fenris was already moving.

He kicked the door open with supernatural strength, revealing a scene of opulent horror. The room beyond was a study, its walls lined with ancient tomes and arcane artifacts. In the center stood an ornate desk, and behind it, a figure that could only be Lord Valerian.

The vampire was tall and imposing, his features aristocratic and cruelly handsome. But his eyes blazed with unholy hunger, and his mouth was smeared with fresh blood. At his feet lay the crumpled form of his latest victim, a young woman barely clinging to life.

Valerian’s surprise at their entrance quickly gave way to cold fury. “How dare you interrupt my meal,” he snarled, revealing fangs stained crimson. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

Fenris stepped forward, partially blocking Lyra from view. “Oh, we know exactly who you are, leech. The question is, do you know what I am?”

As he spoke, Fenris began to change. It wasn’t the full transformation Lyra had witnessed during the full moon, but a hybrid state that was somehow more terrifying. His features elongated, becoming more lupine, while thick fur sprouted along his arms and back. When he smiled, it was with a mouth full of razor-sharp fangs.

Valerian’s eyes widened in genuine fear. “Werewolf,” he spat, backing up a step. “Your kind was supposed to be extinct in these parts.”

“Surprise,” Fenris growled, his voice deeper and more guttural in this form.

What followed was a battle unlike anything Lyra had ever witnessed. Fenris and Valerian moved with supernatural speed, their forms blurring as they traded blows that would have shattered ordinary bones. The vampire’s centuries of experience were matched against the raw power and ferocity of the werewolf, neither able to gain a clear advantage.

Lyra knew she had to act fast. While the two preternatural beings were locked in combat, she darted around the edges of the room, her eyes scanning for anything that resembled a map. She muttered a quick locator spell, praying it would cut through the magical interference that permeated the mansion.

A faint glow caught her attention, emanating from a locked drawer in Valerian’s desk. Lyra rushed to it, her fingers already weaving a spell to bypass the lock. As the drawer sprang open, she heard a pained yelp from Fenris. Glancing up, she saw that Valerian had gained the upper hand, his hands wrapped around Fenris’s throat.

Without thinking, Lyra grabbed the first thing her fingers touched in the drawer – a rolled parchment that hummed with magical energy. She whirled to face the battling pair, the map clutched to her chest.

“Valerian!” she shouted, her voice ringing with power. The vampire’s head snapped towards her, his eyes widening as he saw what she held. “Release him, or I’ll destroy this map and everything it leads to.”

For a moment, the mansion seemed to hold its breath. Then, with a snarl of frustration, Valerian released Fenris. “You have no idea what forces you’re meddling with, little witch,” he spat.

Lyra stood her ground, even as her heart raced with fear. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea. Now, we’re going to walk out of here, and you’re going to let us go. Unless you want the location of the Air artifact to be lost forever.”

Valerian’s face contorted with rage, but he made no move to stop them as Lyra helped Fenris to his feet. They backed slowly towards the door, never taking their eyes off the seething vampire.

“This isn’t over,” Valerian hissed as they reached the threshold. “You’ve made an enemy this night, one who will hound your steps for eternity if need be.”

Fenris, who had shifted back to his human form, managed a pained smile. “Get in line, bloodsucker. You’re not the first to make that promise, and you won’t be the last.”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

With that, they fled, racing through the mansion and out into the night-shrouded streets of Ravencrest. They didn’t stop running until they had put several blocks between themselves and Valerian’s lair, finally ducking into a shadowy alley to catch their breath.

Lyra leaned against a cool stone wall, her heart pounding from more than just physical exertion. She looked at Fenris, taking in the cuts and bruises that marred his skin. “Are you alright?” she asked, reaching out to touch a particularly nasty gash on his cheek.

Fenris caught her hand, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm. “I’ll heal. What about you? Did he hurt you?”

Lyra shook her head, a tremulous smile forming on her lips. “No, thanks to you. That was… incredible, Fenris. I’ve never seen anyone go toe-to-toe with a vampire like that.” He shrugged, though she could see the pride in his eyes. “Well, I couldn’t let him drain the woman I love, could I? Speaking of which, did you get what we came for?” Lyra’s eyes widened as she remembered the parchment still clutched in her other hand. She unrolled it carefully, her breath catching as she saw the intricate map depicted there. “This is it,” she breathed. “The path through the Skyspire Mountains, and the location of the Air artifact. Fenris, we did it!”

Their eyes met, and in that moment, the fear and tension of the night melted away. Fenris pulled Lyra into a fierce embrace, capturing her lips in a kiss that left her breathless. When they finally parted, both were grinning like fools.

“We make a pretty good team,” Fenris murmured, resting his forehead against hers.

Lyra nodded, her heart swelling with love and pride. “The best. Now come on, partner. We’ve got a mountain to climb and an artifact to claim.”