Chapter 1
464words
Overnight, the Dark Emperor was reduced to a common street rat.
As his sworn enemy, I picked him up, thinking he was just an ordinary man.
He looked at me blankly: "Why save me? I have nothing left to offer."
I studied his pale face and answered with a straight face: "Because you're easy on the eyes, and you can help with the cooking and dishes."
Later, after reclaiming his throne, he trapped me in his embrace, his fangs grazing my neck.
He whispered: "I've heard wolves have remarkable… vitality?"
I shook my head frantically: "No… I'm anemic. Bad blood. Terrible taste, really."
…
The torrential rain transformed the metropolis of New Sea City into a surreal, dreamlike canvas of distorted lights and shadows.
I clutched my worn-out trench coat tighter around my body and hurried through the narrow alley.
As one of the weakest werewolves of my bloodline, I hide among humans like the rest of my kind, working the night shift at a 24-hour pet hospital.
I'd grown used to the city's darkness, but tonight the air carried a strange bloody scent that set my heart racing on instinct.
My heightened sense of smell caught both the iron-sweet tang of blood and something else—something peculiar.
The scent tugged at my primal instincts, drawing me deeper into the alley until I found him crumpled behind a row of dumpsters.
The man lay curled in a puddle of filthy water, his expensive tailored suit in tatters, soaked with mud and blood, yet somehow still revealing the impeccable craftsmanship beneath the ruin.
His face was ghostly white, lips tinged with an unhealthy blue from blood loss.
Yet even in such a pitiful state, there was an unmistakable pride etched into his very being that commanded attention.
I crouched down and carefully checked for breath. Faint, but there—he was still alive.
I sized him up—from the luxury watch with its shattered face to his unnervingly handsome features, even in unconsciousness. My guess: either gang violence or rich-family drama gone bloody.
As a low-ranking wolf just trying to survive in this concrete jungle, "avoid trouble" was practically tattooed on my soul.
But watching him lie there defenseless in the freezing rain, life slowly draining away, the healer in me couldn't just walk away.
"Lucky you," I muttered, more to convince myself than anything.
Then, summoning every ounce of strength, I hoisted his tall frame up and dragged him, one grueling step after another, back to my sanctuary in the old apartment building across town.
What I failed to notice was how the intricate runic array on his chest flickered once when I touched him, completely masking the vampire aura that should have sent me running in the opposite direction.
