It was getting dark again, and Jesse felt the galleon slowing down.

The smell of smoke tainted the air, and thick, dark smog engulfed the once-clear world outside. Jesse got up and walked over to the window, and when he saw the glow of city lights through the murk, his heart started racing. They were there.

He smiled excitedly and went to the barrel that Ross was hiding in, but he stopped himself from saying his name. The guard was still outside his door, and the last thing he wanted was to make him suspicious, especially now that they were literally minutes away from docking.

Just as he was about to head to his suitcase and pack as best he could, though, he heard Ross say his name. He pressed his ear against the barrel and replied, "Yeah?" keeping his voice as quiet as possible.

"Listen," his mate said firmly. "Here's what we're going to do: when the ship docks, you're going to get off just like you normally would; get your documents checked, whatever. And then head down to East Shipyard. Wait for me there."

Jesse frowned nervously as confliction engulfed him. He didn't feel very confident leaving Ross behind. What if something happened? He'd never know, and he wouldn't be able to help. "What if something happens?" he asked worriedly.

"Just do it," Ross insisted. "The guard will likely escort you, so I can climb out the window."

With an anxious exhale, Jesse glanced at the window. It was definitely big enough for Ross to fit out of, but what if someone saw him? "I-I don't know," he murmured unsurely. "I'm just...worried."

"I'll be fine," his mate said.

Jesse trusted him, and although he was anxious and reluctant, Ross knew what he was doing. "All right," he said. "Just...please don't get caught."

Ross laughed a little. "Don't worry about me. You should get ready to leave."

"Yeah," he mumbled and stood up. He headed over to his battered suitcase and zipped it up as well as he could. Then, he took his travel documents from the front compartment.

The guard knocked on the door. "We're about to dock. You ready?"

"I'm ready," Jesse called.

When the guard unlocked the door, he stepped in. "I'll escort you to the deck and down to the docks. You'll be fine from there."

Jesse nodded and picked up his suitcase. He resisted glancing back at the barrel and followed the Vârcolac guard through the ship. They passed the mess hall, where he saw Sophie and who must be the General, which made him smile a little; he hoped that things would work out for her. He'd never be able to thank her enough, but it was probably best that he didn't try. He was certain that she wouldn't feel too good about being involved in Ross' escape.

The guard led him upstairs, and when they emerged onto the deck, the foggy air burned Jesse's throat, making him cough.

"Yeah, you'll get used to it," the man said with an amused chuckle.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to get used to it. The smell of burning fuel was so much stronger above deck, and the smog was so thick that, despite the ship easing into the docks, the fog lights were barely visible.

Jesse didn't care about the state of the city, though. He wouldn't be there very long. Dor-Sanguis was his new destination.

"Stand here," the guard said, pointing to the space beside him.

As he was told, Jesse stood next to him and looked over the edge. He watched as the dockworkers moored the huge boat, yelling orders at one another, skilfully wrapping the massive ropes around the mooring posts. But his attention was quickly snatched by the sound of marching boots. He turned to face the staircase he'd come up from and observed as at least twenty Vârcolac guards came up onto the deck.

"Fan out," their commander called. "Watch all possible exits. Check every citizen's pass."

The men spread out, taking their posts.

Jesse shivered anxiously. They were clearly suspicious that Ross was planning to disappear into the city and were determined to recapture him...again. But that wouldn't happen. Ross was smart. He wouldn't get caught. Would he?

He snapped out of his thoughts when four crewmen appeared beside him and began lowering the bridge down onto the dock. They then unlocked the gate, opening the passage from the ship to land.

"All right, let's move," the guard said to him.

Jesse followed him down and towards the armed men standing by the archway which led into the shipyard.

"Papers," one of them said.

He handed him his papers.

The man took a moment to look over them, and once he was done, he handed them back to Jesse and looked at his escort. "Problem?"

"Not at all. Protection," the Vârcolac guard replied.

With a grunt, the dock guard nodded.

"Safe journeys, kid," the Vârcolac said to Jesse, and then he turned around and headed back towards the galleon.

Jesse didn't waste a moment. He left the dock and made his way into the city. After asking an old man where East Shipyard was, he navigated the gloomy, fog-ensnared streets, following the man's instructions.

But he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on him. Something about the city had him on edge—either that or knowing that Ross had to avoid the watchful eye of all those Vârcolac was doing it.

He huffed and shook his head, trying to calm himself. He reached the stables that the old man mentioned and turned right, crossing the road. Through the murk, he spotted the huge lighthouse and followed it like a beacon. He crossed another road, passed several warehouses spewing out differently coloured fumes and smoke, and when he reached the towering black gates, he went into the shipyard and down to the shore.

There was no sign of Ross yet.

Jesse found a crate and sat down, placing his suitcase beside him. He glanced up at the silvery glow that was the moon; he couldn't see it entirely, but he knew that it was only a few more days away from being full. The thought of Ross claiming him sent shivers of anticipation through his body; he wanted it now...but he had to be patient.

He took his eyes off the moon and looked around him for his mate, but there was still no sign of him. Jesse started worrying, his heart thumping harder with each passing moment. His thoughts started racing, and he asked himself if he should have stayed or insisted that they come up with a different plan.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

But then he saw a dark shadow moving through the water.

He jumped to his feet, watching as it swam closer and closer, and when it was near enough for him to see without the fog distorting his view, he realized that it was Ross in his wolf form.

Jesse smiled in relief as the black wolf reached the shore. His heart pounded with anticipation, eager to reunite with his mate; he was ready to throw his arms around him, eager to ask where they had to go next. But before he could even take another step, a chilling shadow eclipsed the sky. The sight of the Vârcolac descending in their terrifying demon forms sent a shiver down his spine, freezing him in place.

As the demons landed around Ross, Jesse's stomach churned with dread. They followed him, didn't they? They knew that Ross would come for him.

He watched helplessly as the demons formed a menacing circle, cutting off any path to his mate. The air was thick with tension as the sounds of battle erupted, filling the once tranquil scene with chaos. Blood stained the shore, a stark contrast to the serene landscape they had just crossed.

Ross' defiant snarls echoed in the air as he fought ferociously against the onslaught of demons. But amidst the flurry of silver chains, slashing blades, and deadly bullets, Jesse's heart sank with the grim realization that his mate was outnumbered, outmatched. The dread weighed heavy upon him as he feared the inevitable outcome of the brutal confrontation unfolding before his eyes.

This time, though...he hadn't been injected with wolfsbane This time...Jesse could help.

Despite his nagging reluctance and self-doubt gnawing at him, Jesse refused to let it hinder his actions. He knew that he had to do something, anything to tip the scales in Ross' favour. With a fierce determination burning within him, he shifted into his wolf form and lunged forward, targeting the nearest guard.

A surge of panic shot through him when he collided with the nearest horned, winged adversary. But he couldn't afford to second-guess himself. Ross depended on him, and he couldn't fail his mate—not this time. Ignoring the fear gripping his heart, he sank his jaws into the guard's leg, gripping tightly as blood filled his mouth, a bitter concoction of metal and sulphur assaulting his senses. The guard's scream pierced the chaos; Jesse held on, driven by the desperate need to assist Ross, but the guard harshly crashed the back of his weapon against his head.

Thrown aside by the forceful blow, Jesse hit the sand with a painful thud, his white fur stained crimson with his own blood. Despite the agony coursing through him, he refused to yield. Ross fought on, a whirlwind of fury and defiance amidst the carnage; he aspired to be as stoic as his mate.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Jesse staggered to his feet, narrowly evading the guard's weapon. With a primal instinct guiding him, he seized the guard's wrist in his jaws, clenching down with all his might until he heard the sickening crack of bone. The guard's weapon clattered to the ground, accompanied by a horrified shriek, as Jesse's relentless determination coursed through him, fuelled by the unwavering resolve to stand by Ross' side...no matter the cost.

He yanked his head to the side, using as much force as he could. He sent the guard tumbling across the sand, and then he set his eyes on Ross. His mate was holding his ground, slashing and tearing and ripping. More than half of the Vârcolac were down.

But then the man who Jesse had just thrown pulled a rifle from his back and loaded it with shimmering silver rounds.

Ross was unaware, his back turned to him, too distracted fighting the demons.

Jesse scowled determinedly and raced towards the man. He focused on his devouring need to protect Ross, his desperate wish to spend the rest of his life with his mate, and immediately clamped his jaws around the man's neck when he crashed into him. The guard missed his shot—the bullet hit the sand several feet from Ross—and he tried to scream, but Jesse bit down harder once he pinned the man on the ground. He tried to fight, smacking with his hands and clawing with his talons at Jesse's sides; he tried kicking, but no amount of pain would make Jesse let go. If he did, this man would hurt his mate.

As Jesse held on, his grip tightening with each passing moment, he felt the man's struggles wane, his movements growing feeble until they ceased altogether. A heavy silence descended, broken only by the thud of the man's lifeless body hitting the ground.

A wave of nauseating horror washed over Jesse as he slowly released his hold, his entire being trembling with shock and disbelief. What had he become? He'd taken a life, succumbing to the very violence he'd sworn to resist. The weight of his actions settled like a leaden burden on his shoulders, suffocating him with guilt and remorse.

The realization crashed over him like a tidal wave, drowning him in self-condemnation. He crossed a line that he swore he never would, staining his soul with the irreversible act of murder. In that moment, he felt as though he had betrayed everything he believed in, condemning himself to a darkness he'd fought so hard to resist.

Now, he was just like his family. Just like Ross.

A killer.

A monster.

He stared down at the body, his heart racing. A consuming concoction of panic, grief, and despair ensnared him, making it harder and harder for him to breathe as he came to terms with his crime.

But he was snatched out of his trance when a savage, irritated snarl came from his left. He turned his head and set his sights on Ross, who stood among the bloodied, mauled corpses of the Vârcolac guards.

Ross' gaze locked with Jesse's, and then his eyes shifted, glancing down at the corpse which lay at his paws. Even his mate looked shocked. But instead of coddling him, Ross raced over to him and insisted, "We need to move. They'll be sending reinforcements any second."

Jesse didn't move. He stared at the corpse, unable to shake the terrifying guilt.

"Jesse!" Ross exclaimed, nudging the side of his body with his head. "Let's move!"

He flinched a little and shifted his sights to Ross. His throat tightened, and he struggled to find his voice. "I-I...I...killed...him," he said, choking on the words.

"You did what you had to," Ross replied, shaking his head. "He was going to kill us."

Jesse shivered, looking down at the dead demon again.

Ross exhaled deeply and softly nuzzled the side of Jesse's head. "Listen to me," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You were defending us, okay? You didn't kill him because you wanted to, you did it because you had to. That doesn't make you a monster, Jesse. Believe me, I know enough of them to tell."

He still trembled, his heart still raced, but as he slowly turned his head and met Ross' eyes, he frowned despondently. "But...I killed...someone."

"You killed a demon who was trying to kill us, okay?" he said and looked over his shoulder for a moment. "Please, Jesse. We have to go."

He felt the urge to look down at what he'd done again, but he closed his eyes and nodded. When Ross raced towards the gates, Jesse followed, keeping his sights focused dead ahead.

"We've got to get to the city centre," Ross called.

Jesse grunted in response, trapped in his thoughts again. He'd killed...for the first time in his life, he'd taken someone else's away. But it was to save Ross. If he hadn't done it, that demon would have shot his mate—he could have killed his mate. Jesse just did what he had to do to protect him. It was those demons or them...and he chose them. He'd already decided to go with Ross, to be with Ross, and he wouldn't let anything stop that.

But he knew that this would stick with him forever. He'd never be able to stop thinking about the taste that oozed into his mouth when he broke that demon's neck; he wouldn't be able to forget the sounds of him choking, or the sight of his limp, lifeless body.

"This way," Ross called.

Jesse veered right into an alley, following his mate. As far as he could tell, the Vârcolac weren't on their trail, but it probably wouldn't be long until they were. He didn't want to panic himself, though. He ran with Ross, navigating the murky city's alleys, delving deeper and deeper.

As Jesse sprinted forward, the weight of his actions still heavy on his heart, an unexpected sensation began to stir within him. It was a peculiar mix of apprehension and excitement, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Despite the guilt and dread gnawing at his conscience, there was an undeniable thrill in the chaos, a rush unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

Was this what his life had become? A constant struggle for survival, where every day brought new challenges and dangers to overcome? The thought sent a shiver down his spine, but intertwined with the fear was a strange sense of exhilaration. Each moment was now defined by the fierce determination to protect Ross, to ensure that they had another day together, day after day.

The memory of the recent violence still fresh in his mind, Jesse recoiled at the thought of taking another life. The sight of wolves fighting, the sound of death echoing in the air—it was a reality he never wanted to grow accustomed to. Yet, as he embraced the harsh truth of their circumstances, he realized that he was willing to do whatever it took to keep Ross safe.

In that moment of clarity, Jesse understood the depth of his commitment. He would defy his own principles, betray his promises to himself if it meant safeguarding his mate. It was a sobering realization, one that filled him with a sense of resolve and purpose amidst the chaos of their new reality.

His new life had begun, and he was ready to embrace it, no matter how daunting or perilous the path ahead might be. With Ross by his side, he knew that they would face whatever challenges came their way, forging a future together in a world where survival meant sacrificing pieces of themselves that they never thought they would.

End of book one.