FLASHBACK TO NIGHT BEFORE

Lys, Volfango & Angel

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Angel drained the last of her neon-pink drink, scrunching her nose dramatically at how sugary it was. She placed the empty glass down with the precision only afforded by the thoroughly intoxicated. The music pulsed around her, the room a hazy blur of neon lights as she pivoted on her heels to throw herself into the clutches of the next EDM song.

Then, a smooth voice broke through the noise to her ear: "You may excuse Volfango, but he cannot simply watch when such beauty is before him. Perhaps we may join you?"

She turned slowly, eyebrows arching high as a delighted, tipsy smile took over her face.
"Volfango will make this night one to remember, just the way you want it."

Angel’s smile nearly fell as she watched the man with the luscious dark hair trail a finger down Lys’s back. However, it was kept intact simply by the idea that the man was referring to himself in the third person. In fact, Angel was entirely consumed by the task of trying not to laugh at the concept.

”For a heartbeat, I thought she looked like someone I used to know.”

Her eyes darted from Volfango to Lys rapidly.

”But that girl wore wildfire in her hair. This one’s cloaked in starlight.”

”Either way…” Angel flashed an innocent grin full of teeth at Lys as she spoke, ”I’ve always been one to welcome unexpected guests into the chaos. The more, the merrier.”

If this were a film, this would be the moment she’d pause, tension rippling beneath the surface, maybe even clutch her chest dramatically, but she was completely hammered, so instead she snorted. She broke into loud and unrestrained laughter, holding her sides as she doubled over slightly. Then she hunched forward, holding her sides as she gasped for breath.

“Wait—wait, hold up,” she wheezed, waving a hand like she was calling time-out. “Volfango? Is that your actual fucking name?” She straightened up, blinking through tears, her tone full of disbelief. “Are you actually referring to yourself in the third person right now? Is that a thing you do? …That’s adorable.”

Volfango grinned at her unrestrained laughter at his way of speaking. It was an old trick played on him by his older sister when they were both little. The way she was laughing reminded him of that moment. It took him a few decades to remove but he had grown so fond of it he decided to adopt the way of speaking. Besides, it was sure to make people remember your name and when paired with his eccentric personality it made sure none would forget him. ”Volfango is glad you think so.”

She wiped tears from her eyes and added perhaps randomly, “I mean, full disclosure: I totally thought I saw you guys getting busy banging on that poor, defenseless couch earlier. Which—no judgment.”

He nodded at her statement and briefly glanced over his shoulder at the scene of the crime. ”Yes, it seems they are finally bringing out the wet floor sign…”

Angel straightened up with an exaggerated sigh, sweeping her hair back over her shoulder as she flashed a playful smirk. “Just between us, I’m always a little frisky myself when I’m this drunk, so you two really caught me at a great time. ”

Her gaze then drifted, reluctantly but purposefully, settling squarely on Lys. With exaggerated innocence and wide-eyed sincerity that wouldn’t fool a child, Angel fluttered her lashes dramatically and announced, ““Oh, hi there totally new person who I’ve absolutely never met before.”

She flashed Lys an overly bright grin, extending her hand theatrically as she introduced herself: “I’m Sicily, a totally normal girl who’s definitely not hiding a thing, and I’m gonna need at least two more songs before I’m ready to make any more decisions tonight. So, Volfango and…hot girl whose name I absolutely don’t know… Let’s party.”

’Oh how marvelous.’ He thought to himself, feeling his mouth water now that the feast was properly on the menu. ”Come, then. Let us get further... acquainted.” He took his time speaking the last word while he moved in closer and slid his palm onto her back, touching the exposed skin between her shoulder blades.

His attention shifted over to Lys, a smirk on his lips ”Shall we, mia bellissima ninfa? Our new companion wishes to have a good time.” In that moment, Lys whispered in Volfango’s ear, letting him know that she had to take care of something, but she’d soon return. In the meantime, she encouraged him to have his fun.

A shiver rippled through Angel’s skin as his fingers traced the bare stretch of her back. She tilted her head toward him, one brow arched in amused challenge. Her gaze flicked briefly to Lys as she slipped away, but the moment passed like a shrug, and Angel leaned smoothly into his touch, her hand resting on his shoulder, hips moving with effortless rhythm.

The beat thrummed in her chest as she leaned back into him, a lazy smile curling on her lips, her voice warm and laced with mischief. “Since we’re getting acquainted…” she mused, twirling a finger in the air like she was making a list. “I like long walks on the beach, pizza at 3AM sharp, and feeding mangy stray cats kibble.”

With a playful grin, she then reached up and trailed a finger along his jaw.
“So tell me, Volfango... who exactly am I dancing with?”

His hips and torso move just as smoothly as his arms as he danced alongside Angel, never letting his hand leave her for more than a moment. When she fell with her back against him, his hand found rest on her hips while he leaned his head around just over her shoulder. ”A man of many talents and interests, you being one of them of course.” He spoke gently into her ear, using the closeness for a quick kiss on her neck.

”But that isn’t much of a satisfying answer, and Volfango always satisfies.” He began to sway as he kept her in his tender embrace.

”Volfango enjoys meditation in the morning, eating greasy foods on cheat days, and helping people enjoy themselves.” He of course was referring to his work in the entertainment industry, though the double-meaning was very much intended.
Those who knew him as the second son of one of the most powerful Fae in Haylcon were few and he had made deals to ensure they would not break their silence easily.

She arched a brow at the boldness of the kiss, though the affection was far from unwelcome. The vampires at the Black Spire were many things, but never affectionate, at least in any real way. Her fingers traced idle patterns on his forearm, a faint sadness tugging at her heart as she wondered if he enjoyed such warm intimacy so casually every night. Perhaps she had missed out on far more than she realized.

“You seem lucky,” she said at last, her tone softer now,. “Your whole life sounds like… one long vacation. “

For the briefest moment, a jagged image flashed in her mind: a man lying in a pool of his own blood, her own hand wiping crimson from the edge of her sword. She pushed it away before the memory could take hold, tilting her head and letting her tone lighten again.

“Greasy food only on cheat days?” she teased with mock disbelief.. “Fuck, I eat that stuff all the time. Guess that means every day’s a cheat day for me.”

The muscles in the corner of his right eye twitched at her statement, but her own brief shift in expression told him she had reasons for believing so. This part of his life did feel like a vacation compared to what it once was. The scars of what it took to earn it he carried with him everyday. ”Volfango has simply made the right moves at the right time.” After saying this, he dipped her back just a bit and pivoted her in a half-circle before bringing her back up to him.

He chuckled a little, the honesty of it surprising him. ”And yet your figure remains perfect. You must be very active.”
“Oh absolutely too active.”

”Tell Volfango what brings such a stunning fox to this den?” He shifted through the song and dance until he was behind her, wrapping his arms around her stomach holding her as they moved with the beat.

She let herself sink into the rhythm, his arms around her, her voice quieter now. Most of the time, she had felt the less people knew about her the better. But sometimes even Angel got tired of playing the game.

The music was nice, the boy was pretty and she was wasted. Maybe just once, she could show a card or two. Not like she’d thought any of this out anyway.

“Trying to enjoy freedom while I can.” She spun slowly in his arms, hands sliding up to drape lazily around his neck. A wry smile tugged at her lips.

Gilded cages. Empty promises. False Family

“Not that deep. Just… here to have some fun.”

Destiny refused. Seeking direction. Goal undefined.

There was a flicker of warmth in her gaze before she added with a breathy laugh, “You definitely qualify as fun. Should I assume Volfango came out tonight to dance with hot babes?”

”And in that, Volfango believes he has been quite successful.” His voice lowered a little, hands roaming slowly along her side to make his point.
Unexpected companionship. Volfango could listen to her speak for hours. She had the right looks and attitude to make it big on the silver screen but he felt a kinship he had not been expecting. He wanted to keep his eyes on her…and hands…and much, much more.

Then she deepened her voice playfully, expression deadpan but eyes gleaming.

“Sicily is so here to hang with long-haired hunks in a room that smells like sweat and beer.”

”Such words are music to Volfango’s ears.” In that moment, a fairy-like ball coalesced around his shoulder and began to float around them, pulsing in different colors to the bass. ”Volfango is yours for the night, Sicily. Allow him the pleasure of entertaining you.”

After Volfango’s offer, Angel grinned, spun to the beat with her hands in the air, jumping in tune to the music and declared with a giggle:
“You’re all mine then!”

Then she slowed as her eyes locked onto the floating ball. Her brows lifted and she immediately tried to poke it.

The light shimmered where she poked it and it split into many small lights that brought along a shroud of darkness. At that moment, it was just Angel and Volfango dancing with the spheres of light performing back-up around them.

”Volfango would offer this before the true fun begins…in case one night was not enough of Volfango.” He pulled back a hand and flicked it upwards and summoned a slim, sleek card with his name, picture, and number on it.Volfango offered it to Angel between two fingers.

Angel plucked it between her own two fingers and then momentarily reviewed it with a smirk before storing it in her purse. Minutes bled together in the haze of sound and light as they danced together until the music shifted and the alcohol had finally hit her full blast. Angel swayed with the music still, letting her body lean lazily into his. Her lips curved in a teasing smirk as she tilted her head to look up at him.

“Mmm… I can decide what we do, can’t I?” she murmured flirtatiously. Before he could answer, she reached up and poked his cheek with a single finger, giggling. Her lashes fluttered as if weighing some grand decision. “Do you wanna go cuddle or something?”

Volfango let out a low chuckle at her playful poke. ”Volfango would greatly enjoy more time with you in his arms.” He said in a softer tone, imagining without shame how much more comfortable their cuddling session would be without clothes. That said, he would happily be her pillow if that would make her happy. Pleasure came in all shapes and forms, after all.

”Shall Volfango reserve a room where we can cuddle….or something?” Expressive as Angel may have seemed to him, he doubted she would enjoy such an open display of intimacy as Lys.

”Perhaps he may provide a massage. Volfango is quite exceptional with hands, he has been told.” His voice not hiding precisely what kind of massage it may turn into.

“Reserve a room? Mmm… dangerous.” Her eyes glittered.
“Let’s do it.”

”Perfect. Follow Volfango and he shall acquire the proper accommodations.” His golden eyes sparkled with motes of light before guiding Angel away from the dance floor. A possessive hand kept around her hip to signal she was taken for the time being. Volfango briefly scanned the crowd for his bellisma ninfa but alas she was likely stirring trouble elsewhere in the club.

It hadn’t been hard to secure a V.I.P. room on the second level of the club. One short conversation to the manager running the floor was all it took and he hadn’t even needed to drop the Da Vita name. Volfango may not have the same reach as his father but when it came to establishments of entertainment he had significant influence.

Volfango held the door open for Angel to a luxurious suite, one-way glass overlooking the spacious center of the club. Counters illuminated by colorful lights with a fully stocked bar, a large couch facing the window, projected waves of water that seemed to flow down the waters, and touchscreen panel next to the couch for ordering different kinds of services.

”It is not too late to slip from Volfango’s fingers…” He gestured towards the inside of the room like a refined butler welcoming his mistress.

Angel arched a brow, mischief curling at her lips. “Are you trying to get rid of me already, or something, Volfango?” With a dramatic little gasp, she pressed a hand to her chest like a wounded heroine, then broke into a grin as she made her way into the room before her.

”Volfango would never dream of doing something like that.” He let out a soft chuckle at the budding inside joke between them. His eyes shamelessly watched her step past him and into the room. Volfango moved forward and let the door close behind him. His hand holding onto the handle to infuse a minor charm. The handle would twist and turn both directions without opening the door, just to give them an extra layer of protection and privacy.

She then made herself right at home, plopping down on the bed with zero hesitation, sprawling out like she owned the place, giggling into the cushions. Angel raised her head and gave him a cheeky grin, “C’mere, c’mere—pspspspsps!” she called, beckoning him over like he was a stray cat she’d just decided to adopt.

Volfango grinned at her playfulness and swayed his body with feline grace as he walked up to the bed. His golden eyes blinked and upon opening his pupils became vertical slits that disappeared soon after when he blinked once more. Whiskers, he thought, might have been far too distracting.

When he inevitably came closer, she yanked him down into a cuddle pile, tucking herself comfortably against him. For a few beats, she was quiet, staring up at the glowing ceiling lights above them.

Volfango didn’t struggle against falling into the bed, shifting behind her so that he could comfortably wrap his large arms around her. His hands brushed and caressed where they had fallen in rhythmic circles and lines, not diving further or pursuing more intense intimacy. She might not have reservations against that sort of thing, but it didn’t take magic to understand she wanted something else.

Then her voice softened unexpectedly. “Me and my twin brother… We used to stay up talking for hours looking up at the ceiling like this. Dumb stuff, serious stuff, whatever.”

He propped himself up a little on his elbow to look down at her, his hand running up and down the soft skin of her arm where he also noted the density of muscle.
She tilted her head to peer up at him, curious. “Serious question… Do you have any siblings?”

Volfango’s eyes darkened a bit at the question though he didn’t look away as their gazes connected. ”A brother and three sisters. Volfango is the second oldest. He has not spoken to them in a long time.” He gave his serious answer, a bit of sadness seeping into his typically energetic tone. He had been closest with his older sister, born within a couple years of each other. Extremely close for Fae. They played all kinds of pranks on each other, all in good fun.

”Moments like the one you speak of are often the most precious. Tell Volfango more.” Volfango relaxed his expression once more, his voice adopting a softer, more soothing tone. Now that they were laying like this, he could feel something tickle the back of his mind. A faint touch of magic around Angel became more clear to him.

Angel let out a sharp exhale that could’ve been a laugh. She tipped her head back toward the ceiling, lips twitching with a smirk. “I… I haven’t talked to my brother in a hot minute either.”

Her voice held a careless lilt at first, but as she went on, it thinned as if someone had been tugging a thread too tight. “Having a twin is the weirdest damn thing. It’s like… You get used to this constant mirror walking around, someone who knows your stupid jokes before you finish them, someone who… just gets you. And then one day…It’s like he turned into a stranger wearing his face. Talking to him felt like screaming into an empty room.”

Volfango listened attentively to her as he kept up his gentle caress. The words she spoke about her brother striking too close to home for him. It was a surprising connection between the beautiful stranger he found himself wrapped around like a safety blanket. Perhaps that was why the pain and sorrow in her voice resonated with him and he found himself all that more invested in her. More of his hand made contact with her body, but his touch grew softer in reaction. Volfango loved the sound of his own voice, for sure, but he wanted to just listen to hers right now.

She went still, the distant beat of the music muted against the silence between her words.
“With him gone like that, even when he was standing beside me, it was like… losing a limb I could still feel aching.” The admission hung there a moment too long before Angel seemed to realize how much she’d bared. Her jaw tightened and her brows knit.
She turned back to him quickly with a crooked grin, voice lifting to cover the cracks.

“Anyway. Why’d you quit talking to your siblings, huh? Bet you were never lonely growing up. It must have been like the Brady Bunch…” She twisted her body up to hover over him and with a smile she teasingly asked, her hair spilling down in the space between them. “And did you all refer to yourselves in the third person or was that just your thing?”

Her raw honesty was both striking and refreshing to Volfango and in some ways captured him more than her beauty. Despite his separation, Volfango felt he had exchanged his masks for a different set...but at least he got to choose these ones. Would it hurt to lift the mask for a little? The quick answer was yes, potentially horribly so, but he was willing to suffer a little pain.

”Volfango alone lays claim to that charming aspect. His darling older sister had tricked him and he was forced to address himself in such a manner.” A pure smile spread on his lips as his golden eyes looked into Sicily’s, no reservation about maintaining eye contact with her. ”Volfango later managed to overcome the charm but he decided to perform it on his own. His sister soon came to regret it.”

Angel scrunched her nose and let out a dramatic little whine, her voice pitching up in outrage. “What the hell, sis!”

Then she broke into a grin, eyes gleaming as she leaned closer, “Honestly? That’s badass. She tried to stick you with something to embarrass you, and instead you flipped it and made it your signature. That’s a power move, Volfango. Now it’s your thing — not hers. Of course she’s pissed! ”

His hand brushed some of the hair that had fallen between them over her shoulder so he could see more of her pretty face. When he did so, the magic he had felt grew stronger. As one well-versed in the use of magic to change appearances, he was able to feel the general nature of what the magic was. Volfango wondered what changes had been made…

”There was hardly a moment where Volfango had a moment to himself. Our childhoods were strict but we were there for each other.” He let out a small, amused scoff as he started to brush his finger through her glamorous hair. ”That was…until our father brought up our inheritance.” Volfango kept a smile but his eyes expressed something far more grim. ”Volfango’s older sister, the one he looked up to, turned quickly on him when it was revealed there would be only one heir.”

He took a lock of her hair and brought it to his lips and pressed them against it closing his eyes. Sicily’s golden hair began to recede from where his lips had touch, revealing the marvelous crimson color underneath. Volfango slowly opened them and smiled warmly at the change. ”So, Volfango took himself out of the running.” He concluded. Volfango’s eyes scanned her face framed by her new color. “You pull off blonde very well, but red is certainly more your color.” He purred the words.
Angel’s smile had softened while he spoke, her head tipped just slightly as she listened. The teasing edge in her eyes gave way to genuine empathy bleeding through the haze of liquor.

“That’s… kind of heartbreaking, honestly. Family’s supposed to be the one place where you don’t have to fight for your worth. Though you were right to go the ‘fuck the heir Olympic’ route. You were like… I’ll just be over here living my best life.”

But then she realized that his lips had brushed her hair—her real hair—and the playful mask cracked. Angel went very still as if the whole room had shifted sideways. She felt the color drain out of her face as crimson strands slipped free where blonde should’ve been.

Her eyes snapped to his, wide and sharp with alarm. The smirk she tried to conjure faltered halfway. “I—uh—” She stammered, pushing upright a little too quickly, hands smoothing her clothes like she’d suddenly remembered she had somewhere to be.

“I gotta… I gotta go.”Then, fumbling for ground she didn’t have she added: “This was… cool though. You’re cool. I mean, way too cool for me probably, but still—yeah. Next time. I wanna hang out again.”

Her laugh was thin, nervous. She backed away like she’d just realized the floor might give out beneath her at any second, and suddenly made a beeline for the door.

Volfango’s face didn’t tense in alarm nor scowl in disappointment at Angel’s reaction. His eyes flashed a bit of confusion but mostly they expressed curiosity. He sprung off his hands and landed on his feet, reaching out to grab her forearm to stop her. Careful of his grip.

”Volfango has overstepped it seems. He apologizes for his selfish curiosity, though Volfango cannot say he regrets seeing such a perfect red.” He eased himself closer once more.

”That color must expose you to much danger. Allow Volfango a moment more of your time.” He did not wait for her response before feeling the magic once more. Small orbs like fireflies dance along her hair as it returned to the blonde it was before.

”Sicily, please call upon Volfango. He shall not breathe a word except those you desire to hear.”

Angel’s breath caught as she glanced down, strands of blonde once more framing her face. For a moment, she just stared at it, fingers twitching like she wanted to reach up and test if it was real.

“…Thank you.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, warmer than her usual smirk, though no less quick to vanish.But then her shoulders tightened, and she pulled herself back behind that careful mask she wore so well. Her gaze lingered on him, her eyes wary yet grateful, before she turned toward the door.“I should go. Thanks again for tonight.”

”The pleasure was Volfango’s. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

The Fae prince’s eyes lingered on Angel and then where she had been standing once the door closed a few seconds after. His smile slowly faded as he let out a long sigh and walked towards the one-way window that looked over the dance floor. Neon lights illuminating his dark figure as he dwelt on the night so far and what he had yet to accomplish. The time for fun was at a close. Now…it was time to shuffle the board.

The bass shook the walls, the floor, even the glass in Vex’s hand. The bar was a mess of noise and bodies, but her focus had tunneled to one point.

She’d always kept her distance from Dom, with that magnetic, dangerous pull that came with being what he was. Alphas meant trouble, and she knew better. But tonight? Shots burning her stomach, cocaine and ecstasy tearing through her veins, her body didn’t care. Her mind wasn’t even in the room anymore, blissfully quiet, leaving instinct to run the show.

Neon streaked across her vision when she moved, lights spinning too fast. She caught herself on the bar, laughing too sharply, too suddenly. Everything felt loose, unsteady, and her skin was buzzing, nerves screaming. And underneath it all, stronger than the liquor and drugs, was his scent.

It coiled in her lungs like smoke, heavy and addictive, until she was dizzy from breathing him in. She turned toward him, pupils wide, swaying too close. The crowd pressed and pulled, but she swayed closer, her hip brushing his. It was a mistake. The contact sent a jolt through her, hot and undeniable.

“Dom…” His name slipped out of her, low and drawn, her mouth dry. She steadied herself against him, fingers clumsy as they trailed across his arm until they found his wrist. The steady beat of his pulse throbbed under her touch, grounding and infuriatingly calm against the frantic hammer of her own.

Her lips pulled into a sly curve. “Looks like we’ve got an audience.”

Her gaze cut to the golden eyes watching from the shadows his pack. Her eyes snapped back to him. She pressed against him in time with the bass, eyes lit with something reckless.

“Tell me,” she breathed, close enough her words brushed his skin,“how are you going to explain this?”She bared her teeth in a grin, wild and chaotic, a woman daring the whole room to watch her burn while she laughed.

Dom’s hand came up slow, catching hers where it pressed against his wrist. His thumb brushed once over her knuckles, and the resonance of his voice cut through the bass of the music.

“Let ‘em watch,” He said. “They still know their place. And you…” His eyes narrowed a bit as he looked deeper into her gaze. “…you don’t seem afraid of the eyes on you either, Vex.”

Her smile widened “Afraid? No, sugar. Fear is for prey..The fire in her chest was something she hadn’t felt in a long time. She wanted to keep chasing the white rabbit. Let herself tumble further into the spiral where logic dissolved and only heat and hunger remained.

The music pulsed through her veins like a second heartbeat, urging her deeper, faster, farther. She pressed against him with purpose, her eyes continuing to lock onto the Alpha as if challenging him.

” Difference between them and me is I don’t know my place” she teased. ” Maybe you’re the one afraid? How would you handle something too wild to tame…”

Dominic stood like a stone wall as she pressed against him. His figure did not depart even an inch, as he welcomed the closeness. More than one of his senses could feel her purpose, and the faintest smirk appeared at the edge of his mouth.

“Mhm, me…scared of a woman like you, Vex?” His voice was low enough to reverberate through her as the sound met her ear, low and intimate. An arm wrapped itself around her with the natural movements of their bodies to the music, but as he let his question linger, he pulled her against him even tighter. “Always.” He said in jest, that once upon a time boyish smirk…now that of a leader’s, grew on his face as he could feel the way her body reacted to him.

“So, you’re not just a pretty face after all…” she murmured, her voice dripping with playful warmth. Her lips curved into a half-smile as she tilted her head, eyes flicking up to meet his. “Guess I’ll have to be careful…someone might mistake you for charming.” Her tone was soft but laced with mischief, the edge of laughter brushing her words.

As she gave in to his pull, the distance between them melted away. The music rose, the air between them thick with heat and sound. Her fingers found the crook of his neck, tracing it absentmindedly before resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm beneath her palm. The way his touch made her forget everything else, her eyes shut for the briefest of moments, soaking in the silence of all the grief and pain. unaware that something else had begun to move among them.

A faint hiss.

Soft. Constant. Unnoticed.

From the vents above, a colorless gas drifted down like a blanket of fog. Slow, deliberate, threading its way through the heat and sound. To most, it was nothing more than air. No scent. No taste. Nothing.

But to the Lycans…

Vex’s eyes shot open, her bright yellow irises nearly glowing amongst the dark venue. They shot to Doms

”What is that…”

Dom’s head turned just slightly, the shift enough for the club’s pulsing light to cut a gold line across his eyes. The air changed, and he felt it even before he smelled it. Something foreign slid into the rhythm. His grip on Vex’s hand tightened as she voiced her concern.

“That…” he said, “that ain’t part of the show.”

A quiet growl rumbled beneath the music as he lifted his chin toward the vents, instincts kicking hard. The pack was already moving in the corners of his vision, the smell beginning to register to them all.

“Something’s wrong.”

Then, softer…only to her, he demanded.

“Stay close.”

Something had happened. What had been a throbbing, living thing, the groove and the physical vibration of beings moving in a cathartic, rhythmic beat to the music, which insinuated itself into the very fibre of each and every consciousness present… a shared experience, blood pumping in sync, fuelled by a driving guitar and a throbbing bass, pushing the tribe to act out their deepest, most bestial desires, had shifted suddenly. To be sure, there was still noise. There was still bass, though that rhythm was gone, replaced by something that seemed like a single note, or a mistake drawn out by an agonizingly long pause. Similarly the groove, the pulse of feet and the motion of the place, likewise gone, replaced by a sudden, catatonic faltering, then… panic. The difference between stomping, moshing, dancing to the beat, and people attempting to flee something gone bizarrely wrong in a horrible instant was as jarring as the cessation of KC’s motion under him. It was as if they had both felt it at once.

There was no time spared for an exchange between them, as Kessler unentangled himself from KC, and made for the door, senses aflame and piercing the gloom. He strode with purpose along the hallway toward the bar-back area, passing a side storage room that had previously contained two writhing bodies in the throes of passion. He stopped and looked in, seeing the twitching, pale, scarily thin, yet unnaturally strong, shirtless form of the vamp barback holding a broken woman’s body aloft, her naked, limp form being exsanguinated; the vamp delighting in the torrent of her blood across his face, in his mouth, coating his chest. His tongue out, savouring the essence of her life, his erection evident under leather trousers. The woman’s body was torn, her flesh ripped in a dozen places, body held at an unnatural angle as the blood poured and rained down on the vamp.

Kessler moved swiftly, taking advantage of the vamp’s attention being elsewhere, its mouth open wide, ecstatic in this rain of blood, and reached over the bloodsucker’s head, taking hold of his jaw from above and below, and exerted his significant strength, rending muscle and flesh asunder, as he literally tore the vamp’s jaw clean off, and wrenched the creature’s head back, snapping vertebrae and sinews, coming close to tearing the man’s head off.

He regarded his efforts for a heartbeat, both the twitching vamp and the broken human woman lying at his feet, before turning back toward the door. Bone snapped and cracked, flesh tearing and reforming, muscle mass doubled and as the pain faded away as Kessler changed, he ripped what remained of his shirt from his thickly corded torso, discarding it as he neared the doorway. He grabbed hold of the doorframe, partly to steady himself as his spine cracked and the final vestiges of his human form gave way, his vast shoulders and rippling chest betraying the power he possessed in his wolf form.

Whatever was happening here, was connected to Logan’s death. Someone was forcing this fight on them. Now wasn’t the time to find out how, or why. Now was simply to get out alive. He had to get to Dom. The Lycan that stepped back through the storage room doorway and into the barback hall, moving faster than anything that big had any right no move, was perhaps the most destructive force of nature at the Fangs’ disposal, and anything between Kessler and his goal would soon be reminded of that. Blood had already been spilled. But not nearly enough.

He moved into the bar proper, and out into the main room of the ‘Underground,’ vaulting onto the bar, crouching and ready for what came next…

It all happened too fast, Kessler pulling away, the music dying mid-note. The silence… then the ripple of red glows across the crowd. Fucking Vampires. A split second later, the crowd erupted into chaos. They vampires were in full bloodlust. “Fuck,” Casey muttered through clenched teeth, her eyes quickly scanning for the nearest exit, and just in time to spot him, a hulking brute of a vampire she’s faced in the cage before, charging straight toward a young human frozen in shock.

Casey moved without thinking. Even in human form, she was fast. She slammed into the brute’s ribs, tackling him to the floor. He snarled as they rolled on the floor fighting for leverage. He was stronger than last time. Hungrier.
The vampire pinned her hard, claws sinking into the flesh of her shoulders. Fire ripped through her nerves. Casey screamed, pain and fury mixing, vibrating through her bones. Her wolf clawed at her insides, begging to shift, to tear him apart, but shifting now would burn through a lot of stamina. Being pack less had it's perks, but it also had it’s faults, a fact she was not ready to admit, but she felt it recently in every cage match, depleting strength.

He drove his claws deeper. Casey cried out again, then on instinct she bucked hard, twisting her hips the way she learned in the cage. The brute toppled sideways, giving Casey the chance to jump to her feet.
She remembered his weak points, the way his knee gave out if hit just right. She slammed her elbow into the ribs, then before he could recover, she pivoted and drove her heel into his knee. It cracked. The vampire collapsed, hissing and shrieking, and Casey staggered back, bleeding but standing. Her wolf surged beneath her skin. She wasn’t done yet.


“Get the fuck out of here!” she snapped, shoving the young man toward the exit, not hard, but just enough to jolt him into motion. He stumbled, then bolted as the chaos swallowed him.
Casey barely had time to turn back before the brute was back on his feet. He came at her with a roar, his claws grazed her cheek, just enough to draw blood, just enough to sting and just enough to piss her off. He lunged again, fangs snapping inches from her throat.
Casey ducked quickly, rolling her shoulder to dodge the bite. Her fist slammed into his gut with a satisfying thud, but before he can fold, she followed up with an uppercut that cracked his jaw and forced him back. The vampire recovered quickly, the bloodlust alone driving him, he snarled at her.

Beast vs beast. That was the only way this ended.

Her muscles coiled. Her senses sharpened. The wolf inside her pressed hard against her skin, begging to be unleashed. The brute charged again, but this time Casey didn’t retreat.
A growl ripped from her chest. Her spine arched, her bones cracked. Heat poured through her limbs as muscles stretched, teared, and reformed. Black and white fur burst across her skin. The burn of the shift was agony and relief all at once.
Casey launched herself forward, a blur of black and white fur and raw fury. She slammed into him with the full weight of her Lycan form, sending him crashing into the end of the bar, wood splintering under impact.
Her lips peeled back over her canines while a snarl rumbled in her chest, saliva dripping from her fangs, her last warning before she went in for the kill

Her jaws clamped onto his abdomen, teeth sinking through skin and muscle, until they finally hit the soft heat of his innards. She ripped her head sideways, tearing out a chunk of flesh and intestine. Her claws followed, slashing into the rest of his stomach with savagery. She dug deeper, rendering his flesh like soaked fabric. Her claws hooked around something soft and slick, she pulled without hesitation, tearing it free.

The vampire convulsed on the floor, but Casey was beyond thought, there was nothing but instinct and rage and the will to survive. Her growl deepened as she teared another handful of flesh away, her muzzle drenched, her breath hot and heavy. The vampire tried to push her off, but he was done, his strength bleeding out onto the floor.

She shifted back, her body snapping and folding in on itself until she was human again. Her white wifebeater hanged off her in bloody tatters, soaked through with both her blood and the vampire’s. Her face still coated in his warm, sticky blood that smeared down her neck and jaw. She dragged the back of her arm across her mouth, her hands still drenched in blood up to her wrists.

“Piece of shit,” she growled, spitting a thick mix of saliva and blood onto the fallen vampire at her feet.
Her breathing was ragged. Her shoulders burned where his claws dug deep. She lifted her head, scanning the room for her own kind. Packless or not, she knew the truth: a lone wolf dies fast in a swarm like this. She needed other Lycans. And she needed them now.

Volfango stood on looking over the edge of his extensive balcony of his penthouse apartment. He wore a muscle-tight cheetah-print with the top few buttons undone along with sleek, black pants that hugged his defined legs. Flashes of neon broke through the dark fog of night amidst the city. His city. The place where every supernatural being would be born and die. A gilded cage. Something he was more than familiar with. The rich, dark red wine that swirling in his hand did little to remove the bad taste in his mouth tonight.

His eyes were so narrowed on the ambiguous scenes unfolding below that they were nearly closed. It had only been a minute since he had received a call about the chaos unfolding at the underground concert. Volfango's lips curled into an vicious snarl that he would never dare to show in the public's eye. He had been hoping to place them under contract following their sudden reappearance. One more tool to add to his growing influence. It was unfortunate that not all deals were meant to go through. That, however, was not what put him in such a sour mood.

Someone with considerable power and resources was making move and it wasn't HIM. Rumors regarding the death of the Iron Fang's second-in-command had just started to filter into his network when this incident hit. The proximity of two such events left the young Fae lord empty just like his bed was every night.

Volfango finished the rest of his wine and headed back into the dimly-lit warmth of his home. He set the glass onto the well-stocked bar with soft illumination around the shelf behind it. Warm, dark wood made up the majority of the interior furniture and a wide assortment of living plants made the penthouse feel more like a cabin tucked away in some lost forest. Volfango was in the process of reaching out to pick up his phone that he had left on the countertop when it began to ring. His eyes immediately narrowed at the name that showed up.

The window looking out to his balcony shattered completely as a dark figure swung from above and crashed into it. Volfango's hand immediately reached for a silver butter knife that pierced the chest of the invader as they charged at him. Their speed and the look in their eyes told him they were a vampire right off the bat and the sloppy way they rushed him suggested nothing better than a thrall. His golden eyes grew in luminosity until they released a blinding flash like staring into the sun. His assailant reeled back for just a moment and gave Volfango time to rip out a shelf from the bar.

Three throwing knives of silver lodged themselves into the vampire's chest as they tackled him to the ground. Motes of light shimmered out as the illusion popped under the vampire's weight. They had but a moment to realize the deception before a baseball bat reinforced with silver plates smashed into the side of its head. The shock of his fierce resistance had worn off and the vampire avoided the second strike. They lunged forward and dug their nails into his chest lifting Volfango up and slamming him down on a glass coffee table. Shards of glass digging through the thin fabric of his top.

Volfango reached out and gripped a larger shard and returned the move by shoving the makeshfit blade into the Vampire's hungry eye. His own blood leaking from the small cuts was having distinct effect on the vampire despite his injuries. Volfango could hear the breathing grow heavier and more feral.

His hand found one of the thrown daggers sticking out of their chest and ripped it free as he saw the sharp fangs jut from its mouth. Volfango managed to just get his arm into position as the fangs plunged forward, piericng his arm while the silver knife stabbed into the upper lid of the vampires mouth. With a couple more strained thruts, the throwing knife was buried deeper and soon the vampire went limp on top of him.

Meanwhile, the phone had continued to ring with the same damned name on the screen. Volfango groaned as he shoved the vampire off to the side and reached from his phone that had landed on the floor next to him in the scuffle. He sighed in as much pain as annoyance as he answered.

"My, oh my, dear brother what HAS gotten you so winded? A smug, feminine voice laced with sickly sweetness entered his ear. "Another one of your pets get off its leash? The melodic chuckle rippled through the speaker, a hint of magic tugging him to stop to listen that he quickly dismissed.

"Hmm, Volfango was certain it was another one of your unsatisfied lovers desperate for something that didn't feel like a cold pillow." He snapped back and grinned at the huff sent in reply after a brief bit of stuttering. Volfango stumbled towards a nearby cabinet that held a first-aid kit, already feeling a little woozy from the bite.

"Very cute, little brother." She had finally responded to him, adopting a false sense of nobility now that her attempts to poke at him failed. "You are not as clever as you like to believe. I hope this little reminder is enough to convince you to stick with playing your toys instead of getting into the real game." Volfango gritted his teeth as he poured over one of the solutions he had prepared in case of a incident like this over the puncture wounds. The magic woven into the liquid burned worse than any antiseptic.

"Volfango shall take it into consideration. Volfango hopes you will be able to raise your head enough from licking father's boots to send him Volfango's regards.". A quiet grunt left his mouth as he tightened the bandaged around his arm and ended the call just as his older sister's hissing wail started to come through.

He decided to give the now perished vamp a once over. His lips curled into a sharp frown as he removed obscuring articles of clothing. It had been starved and the given a single droplet of Fae blood. "Hmm, early this year..." Volfango mused as he tried to find anything to identity the body. As usual, there was nothing to note who this person was.

Volfango picked up his phone once more after he was sure no other surprises would be crashing through his window. "Ari, Volfango is in need of your muscles to remove a nuisance from his lovely abode." He called the current servant attending him to get ride of the body. The cleaners would need to be called the next day.

His attention turned back to the mini-bar as he retrieved the wine bottle he had been drinking from. Perhaps he had been too hasty in putting it back. Yes. It would not hurt to finish the bottle before he went on a midnight stroll. It was all too convenient for this to happen tonight with the tradegy unfolding at the Vein Theory concert.

Dominic Blackmoor

Time: • Night

Interactions: • Vex @Tpartywithzombi • Kessler @deegee

Chaos.

It erupted around them all as the gas took its effect. Dominic could smell the frenzy even before the vamps attacked. This was bad… Real fucking bad. His eyes turned to the stage as he pulled Vex closer. That’s when Aeryn fell.

Dom watched his old friend stagger, silver chain blindfold sliding off one eye as it ignited blood-red. He saw the tremor run through Aeryn’s hands, saw him choke on the air around him. He was fighting the frenzy that was trying to take hold of him, but it was futile. Just like the others, Aeryn succumbed to the monster that was being pulled forth. He became a mindless, desperately violent attacker.

Dom’s jaw locked so hard something inside popped, but he didn’t move towards his old friend. He couldn’t… At least not yet.

His immediate priority was Vex. He shifted her behind him with the hand that was around her waist. He wasn’t sure what she would be able to do in her state, but he knew without a doubt that he’d protect her… That he would protect his pack, regardless of what he had to do.

The first vampire hit him without warning. A blur of nails and teeth and frenzy. Dom didn’t step back or flinch. He caught the creature by the throat mid-lunge and slammed them down so hard the concrete cracked beneath the impact. The vamp writhed, snapping at his face, until Dom’s hand pushed down with enough force to cave the spine at the base of the skull. The body twitched once and went still.

Three more came at him.

He shoved Vex aside in one clean motion, just far enough to keep her out of the reach of their would-be assailants. One vampire tried to latch onto his shoulder. Another tore at the back of his shirt. The third sank claws into his abdomen.

Dom saw white.

He grabbed the closest one by the back of the head and swung it like a hammer. Bone snapped on impact. The creature bounced off a pillar and slid down leaving a smear of blood. The second he crushed against the marble counter. The entire slab gave under the force, cracking down the center like it had been struck by a wrecking ball. Marble dust billowed as Dom ripped the last vampire off his torso with both hands, fingers sinking into the creature’s face as he lifted it and threw it across the bar. It hit a row of liquor shelves, causing glass and alcohol to explode like rainfall.

That was when he smelled Tessa’s blood.

He focused, honing in on her location. The Coldfang boy was there too… he could tell by Luter’s scent that he was injured as well, but clearly, he was protecting her.

Dom, utilizing not just scent but his enhanced hearing as well, searched the room for Kessler. The man’s scent cut through the massacre. Dom found him perched above the bar. He was a mountain of fur and rage, ready to do the things that Kessler did better than anyone. Dominic met his eyes intensely and yelled to him over the cries, growls, and thunderous chaos around them.

“Tessa…get to her. Keep her safe!”

He pushed the worry for Tessa down best he could. Dom understood that if anyone could slaughter their way to her and get her out of this trouble… It’s Kess.

With his attention elsewhere, another vamp lunged forward at him. Dominic turned just in time to intercept the feral creature, but he was a fraction of a second too slow to stop the splintered, jagged end of a chair leg from being driven deep into his right leg. Pain flared as the wood pierced his flesh, but he did not show it. Instead, he raged.

The crack that followed was wet and brutal as the vamp’s skull was slammed against the concrete floor over, and over, and over until his end was final. As he stood, Dom exhaled a sound that wasn’t quite human anymore. He was shifting.

His spine buckled first.

A sharp, cartilage-splitting snap echoed under his skin as vertebrae twisted out of alignment. Muscles bunched, tore, and reknit themselves around the moving bones. His shoulders jerked back so violently it looked like someone had hooked chains into him and pulled hard.

The veins along his throat bulged as his skin visibly crawled. His jaw hitched sideways with a sound like cracking wet walnut shells. Teeth lengthened one by one, each pushing through gum tissue with grotesque pops. His canines grew fastest, forcing his lips to split at the corners. Blood smeared across his teeth as they reshaped into killing tools.

Fingers stretched, then split… Then fused again as bone pushed outward.

Claws tore through the skin at their tips, dragging strips of flesh with them like unraveling thread. His nails fell off in soft, bloody clinks before blackened talons erupted in their place.

Dom exhaled once and the sound was even less human.
It vibrated low in his ribs like metal dragged over stone. The change rolled down his back and under the skin as he continued to take his true form. Tendons stretched until they snapped like overstressed rope, and new ones formed. Thicker ones. His ribcage expanded, cartilage tearing open space for a deeper set of lungs. His heartbeat slammed against his chest as the heart itself suddenly began beating too big for a human body.

His skin mottled, rippling in waves as the coat underneath pushed forward. Coarse fur burst through pores in a spray of blood. It crawled across him until his entire frame was covered, dark and uneven.

His legs distorted next; knees bending the wrong way, ankles popping out of place, and feet splitting as new bones erupted through the old shape. The wooden spike of the chair leg he had been pierced with slid and slipped from the wound as muscle and flesh sewed itself back together, and he dropped forward on all fours for a moment, claws gouging into marble as easily as pressing fingers into wet clay.

Dom lifted his head and the last pieces of humanity shuttered behind his eyes. What looked back at the room was a wolf in the body of a man, jaws dripping, fur matted with blood, muscles quivering under the strain of too much power compressed into too little space. This was the true Alpha of the Iron Fangs on display.

The beast that Dominic had become placed itself between Vex and everything else, and with as gentle a hand as he could manage, he moved her behind him and pulled her close.

He answered the howls of others in his pack with one of his own; the sound reverberating around his space. Blood was spilled all around the club, with vamps feasting on prey in all corners of the place. Dom would save who he could, but his priority was his pack… And he would butcher anyone who dared get in his way on the path to them.