Chapter One - The Fae
ELIRA POV
3 months Later
I trudge through the dimly lit streets of New York City, my boots are caked with dust, dirt and blood from another successful evening of hunting down vampires and rogues. Tonight’s hunt had been brutal, but I barely felt the sting of my wounds or the exhaustion gnawing at my muscles and my bones. The streets are eerily quiet as I reach the door of my apartment, a nondescript building in a part of the city where no one asked questions and I could be left alone. My fingers fumble with my keys, my hands still tremble from the adrenaline, but the lock finally clicks, as I push the door open with a weary sigh.
Inside the apartment was as empty and lifeless as I felt. The bare walls and minimal furniture echoes the void within me, a hollow shell of what had once been a home to a family long forgotten. The only sounds are the distant hum of the city outside and my own ragged breathing. I drop my gear by the door, the weight of my weapons finally too much to bear. As I stumble to the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror—wild-eyed, dirty, and broken. My face is smudged with grime and my clothes are torn and stained from the night’s battle.
I turn on the faucet, letting the water run until it's scalding hot before splashing it on my face. The heat bites into my skin, but it can’t wash away the blood or the guilt that clings to me. As I lean over the sink, the silence is suffocating, the emptiness of the apartment presses down on me like a physical weight.
“You need to stop this, Elira,” Artemis’s voice echoes in my mind, soft but filled with the pain we both carry. “This isn’t what Killian would have wanted.”
My grip tightens on the edge of the sink, my knuckles turning white. “Don’t,” I mutter, my voice hoarse from disuse. “Don’t say his name.”
“You’re hurting both of us.” Artemis pleads, her tone a mixture of sadness and desperation. “Please, go back to the pack. Let them help you. Let them help us. We have a job to do, the Elementals need saving!”
I shake my head, the motion sharp and angry. “There’s nothing left for me there, Artemis. Don’t you get it? He’s gone, and it’s my fault. I can't do this life without him. The physical pain is too much, don't pretend you can't feel it too.”
“We need our family. You need them, even if you won’t admit it.”
A bitter laugh escapes my lips, devoid of any real humor. “Family? I don’t have a family anymore. I don’t have anything.” I close my eyes, willing the connection to my wolf, to Artemis to fade, to be quiet, to leave me in the numbness I crave.
Artemis’s voice grows fainter, tinged with sorrow. “Please, Elira… don’t do this to us. Don’t shut me out.”
But I was already pushing her away, a sharp pang of guilt lanced through my chest as I did so. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to feel anything. The connection to Artemis flickers, and the comforting presence that had been there since Killian, a constant since the day we had first bonded, was fading into the background.
My final connection to him, the final reminder of the love I had lost.
I straighten up, my reflection in the mirror now blurred as if I were looking at a stranger. The apartment around me feels colder and emptier as if the absence of Artemis’s voice had stolen the last bit of warmth from the room. I drag myself to the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed without removing my clothes.
The darkness in the room is oppressive, floating all around me, infiltrating my very soul and I welcome it because it matches the void in my heart.
As I lay here, staring up at the ceiling, the silence returns, heavy and unyielding. Tonight there are no dreams, no whispers of reassurance from Artemis. Just an endless, empty night, the loneliness and guilt swallowing me whole. And in the darkness, I let myself drift, further and further away from who I used to be, my connection to Artemis slipping through my fingers like sand.
Without Artemis, the nightmares come, wrapping me in a suffocating darkness that twists my mind. I am back in that moment—Killian’s blood on my hands, his eyes dulling as he whispers his final words. But this time, I feel something different.
Pleasure.
A dark, twisted joy surges through me as I relive the moment, as though the dark spirit that had possessed me was still there, lurking in the corners of my mind. The vision shifts, and I see myself slaughtering all of Blue Midnight, a smile playing on my lips as their blood stains the earth. The darkness whispers to me, encouraging, coaxing, until I wake up with a gasp, drenched in sweat.
I sit up, my chest heaving, my heart pounding like a drumbeat of impending doom. I wipe my face with trembling hands, the realisation hits me like a blow. Without Artemis, I have no protection against the dark spirit that had already taken everything from me. Part of me knows I should be terrified, but a deeper part, the part wracked with guilt and grief, doesn’t care. I deserve this. I deserve every nightmare, every torment, for killing the only person I've ever truly loved.
I stumble to the shower as I push myself out of bed, hoping the scalding hot water can wash away the lingering traces of my nightmare. But no amount of heat can cleanse the darkness that has settled into my bones. I get dressed in silence, my movements are mechanical as I prepare to face the day, to continue the relentless hunt that is now the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.
**************************************
The city is already buzzing with life as I head downtown, the noise and chaos a welcome distraction. I slip into a small café, order a coffee and find a seat in the corner, where I can blend into the background. I open my laptop and begin searching for my next target, another rogue, another vampire, another demon to kill. Anything to keep the darkness at bay.
I am deep into my research when a tall, blonde, young man approaches my table. He is strikingly handsome, with an otherworldly air that immediately sets me on edge. His scent hits me before anything else, sweet, cloyingly so, like candy left out in the sun too long. My lip curls in distaste.
Fae.
Great.
I don’t look up, pretending not to notice as he hovers beside me.
“Is this seat taken?” he asks, his voice smooth and melodic, tinged with a faint accent I can’t place.
I glance up briefly, my eyes narrowing. Why is he here?
“Does it look like it’s taken?” I reply dryly, my tone laced with irritation. I return my attention to my laptop, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave me alone.
But he doesn’t. He sits down across from me, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I have a message for you, Elira.”
I roll my eyes, my fingers tapping impatiently on the keyboard. “Of course, you do,” I reply dryly, “Let me guess, another cryptic riddle? Because I haven’t had enough of those lately. Or could it be another warning about how I’m meant to save the world?” My voice drips with sarcasm. “Thanks, but I’m not interested. That part of my life is over.”
He ignores my sarcasm, his eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that makes me uneasy. “You are wasting valuable time Elira. You must save the elementals from their prison in hell. Their fate is tied to yours and everyone else's. They play an important role for what's to come.”
I let out a bitter laugh, finally looking up at him. “Save the elementals? You must be kidding. I told you that part of my life is over. My sole purpose now is to take out as many evil spirits, vampires, rogues, and demons as I can until one of them finally puts me out of my misery.”
He leans in slightly, his expression serious. “You’re wrong. Your soul purpose is far greater than yourself. You don't have the luxury of being selfish here.”
My jaw tightens, a flash of anger cutting through my usual indifference. "You're right, I don't have any luxuries in this life, but right now being selfish is just about all that I do have."
The fae’s eyes soften with pity, which only fuels my anger further. “Self-pity doesn't look good on you,” he says calmly. “Your destiny is not something you can choose. It’s far greater than your grief, greater than your pain. You don’t have the privilege of choosing your life or walking away from it. It was decided long before you were born, and written in the stars long before that.”
I clench my fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms as I force myself to stay seated. The words sting because I know they are true, but I refuse to acknowledge them. “You don't know anything about me,” I mutter, my voice cold as ice.
The fae stands, his expression unreadable. “Remember, Elira—running from your destiny won’t bring you peace. It will only bring more pain.” With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me alone with my thoughts as his scent lingers behind him.
I stare after him, my blood boiling with a mix of fury and frustration. Who the hell does he think he is? I shove my laptop into my bag, needing to escape the suffocating confines of the café. I don’t need some self-righteous fae telling me what to do. I know what I am, broken beyond repair, haunted by guilt, and hell-bent on a path of self-destruction. I leave the cafe quickly and head for the gym, desperate to take my frustrations out on a few punching bags until dusk.
***************************
By nightfall I find myself in a cemetery, the air is thick with the scent of death and decay. I move silently among the tombstones, my senses sharp as I hunt down some fresh vampires that have been feeding on the nearby homeless. It doesn’t take long to find them, and the battle is quick and brutal. Their ashes scatter on the wind as I wipe the dust from my brow with a look of grim satisfaction.
As I turn to leave, a familiar presence makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
"Oh, shit," I think to myself, my heart sinking as I recognise the energy radiating through the cemetery.
Hecate.
I hadn’t seen the ancient witch goddess since that awful night, not since I had murdered Killian with my own hands.
And now, here she was, standing before me like a living shadow, her eyes glowing. My heart races, a mix of fear and resignation flooding through me. "Another round of cryptic messages with no real answers," I mutter bitterly. "Great. Just what I need."
“Why are you here?” I demand, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “How did you find me after all this time and why now?”
Hecate’s gaze pierces through me, seeing far deeper than I wanted. “You are truly lost Elira, but you cannot hide from your fate. No matter how far you run, it will always find you.”
I clench my jaw, and my mind screams in frustration. “I’m done with destiny. I’m done with everything. Just leave me alone.”
But I know, deep down, that Hecate won’t. The Witch goddess never does anything without a purpose, and the fact that she was here now meant that something was about to change. Something that I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.
"Please come with me Elira. It's time I helped you if you'll let me." Her voice had some softness to it that I was not used to. It took me by surprise. "Help me? I can no longer be helped. Not even Artemis could help me."
"There are things at play here that you must understand, I beg you, huntress, please come with me!" Hecate was pleading with me now. I tilt my head a little in confusion. Am I being stubborn? I know what I should do, but am I ready to face it? That thought alone made me want to be sick.
"Not today Hecate. I'm not ready today."
"You will never truly be ready for what awaits you." Her voice was still so soft and gentle. It was a kindness I had not been expecting and it made me feel something I wish it hadn't.
“I didn’t choose anything,” I whisper, sadness creeping into my voice. “I was forced into this.”
“Perhaps,” Hecate mused, her tone almost gentle, “but that does not change what must be done.”
I step back, my mind racing again and this time there was no escape. The darkness I was running from, the purpose I was trying to bury, was closing in on me, and I could no longer ignore it. But as I stand before Hecate, all I can think about is how desperately I wish I could.
At that moment I look to Hecate one last time, mouthing "I'm sorry," to her as I flick my wrist and disappear into a cloud of fog I fabricated with my mind, desperate to escape her and all responsibilities. My powers were something I rarely used as they served as a reminder of why I was alone in the first place.
