Chapter 2: Bloodlines and Moonlight
The sun rose slowly over the city, but for Adarsh, it brought no warmth.
He stood in front of his cracked bathroom mirror, staring into eyes that no longer looked like his own. They still shimmered faintly red — not normal, not human. His body ached in strange places. His muscles were tighter, more defined. His hearing picked up birds outside. His sense of smell had sharpened — he could smell emotions.
Was this a dream? A nightmare?
He pulled his sleeve back.
Bite marks.
Claw scratches.
And something deeper — a mark on his wrist. Faint, like a tattoo burned into skin by moonlight. A crescent moon inside a circle of thorns. He didn't know why… but it felt ancient. Familiar.
Back at the hospital, Priya was still unconscious. Machines beeped steadily, cold and cruel. He sat by her side, guilt heavy in his chest.
"I'll find a way to fix this," he whispered, gripping her hand. "I don't care how."
That evening, Adarsh walked home under a purple sky. Every streetlight flickered as he passed. A cat hissed at him from a wall. He noticed things no human should — the heartbeat of a man in a nearby house, the insects in the grass, the scent of fear lingering in alleyways.
Then, someone called his name.
"Adarsh."
He turned. A man stood in the alley's shadow. Tall. Pale. Eyes like ice and age. Dressed in a long black coat, he looked like he belonged to a different century.
"Who are you?" Adarsh asked.
The man stepped closer. "I've been watching you. Since the night you were born."
Adarsh backed away. "Get away from me."
"I mean you no harm," the man said calmly. "My name is Darian. And I know what you are."
Adarsh froze. "What… am I?"
Darian's eyes narrowed. "You are not human. Not fully. You are the last living heir to a forbidden bloodline. A hybrid. Born of two ancient enemies — vampire and werewolf."
Adarsh blinked. "That's impossible. That's… fantasy."
"No," Darian said. "It's prophecy."
Darian led him to an old underground church hidden beneath the city — abandoned and silent, lit by dim torches. Symbols lined the stone walls. A massive book sat open on an altar.
He pointed to an old drawing — a child with glowing red eyes and a wolf's silhouette behind him.
"The Blood Moon Prince. The one who will bring balance… or ruin."
Darian looked at him. "You, Adarsh, are the last of your kind. Your parents were hunted for falling in love across bloodlines. They died to protect you."
Adarsh shook his head. "No. My parents died in a fire. That's what I was told."
"They were killed," Darian said. "By the Council of Fangs — vampire elders who feared your birth. And the Shadow Claws — rogue werewolves who saw your blood as a threat. You were hidden away with distant family. But now… your powers have awakened. And they will come for you."
Adarsh stepped back. "I didn't ask for this."
"No," Darian said softly. "But your sister is dying. And the only way to save her… is to embrace what you are."
Adarsh looked down at his hands — the same hands that glowed and clawed under the moon.
"I'm not a prince," he said.
Darian smiled faintly. "You're more than that. You're a weapon. A legacy. A choice."
As the moon rose again, Adarsh stood on a rooftop overlooking the city.
Inside him, something stirred — not evil, but power. Raw. Ancient. Wild.
His heart beat faster. His senses surged.
And in the wind, he heard the whisper again:
"Choose your side, child of night. Light or shadow. Savior or destroyer."
Adarsh closed his eyes.
He would find the truth. He would protect his sister.
And if he had to become a monster to do it…
So be it.
To be continued...