Chapter 1

• A Slip Up
• There was nothing sweeter than drinking enticing blood fresh from the owner's neck. And there was nothing else sourer than being punished for ever doing what she loved most-seeping the life out of mortals' eyes.
• Avellana Rivers's fingers uncurled, and she fell from the tree to the ground. Knees crouched and hands on the muddy leaves that sat on the earth, her piercing eyes glared at the dark.
• A hand went to her throat, and she couldn't help but groan in frustration. It had been two whole days since she had drunk a single ounce of blood, and now, she craved for it. Stupid little process, she thought. Ever since she had accepted to take the offer of becoming a combatant like her younger brother, all she ever got were sufferings.
• And Avellana couldn't help but break one little rule in the road of becoming what she had always dreamt of. She craved for warm, juicy blood to run down her esophagus. Head tilted upward, her nose scrunched up and her eyebrows knitted themselves together. That smell, she thought, straightening her back. It was always the same stink that greeted her every time she hunted at night.
• Animal blood.
• She shook her head, hoping that this time she could block the source of her annoyance, but it wasn't any good. She looked around and started to move straight, avoiding the trails the humans usually used. She knew this place all too well; she had lived here for more than ten years.
• She stopped at the edge of a cliff, noticing that the grasses were diminishing. Waves of water flowed down the stream and reflected the moon above. Ripples of blue started to show themselves when drops of water started to strike the sky's reflection.
• Her hair was flat against her head; the unexpected rain soaked her from head to toe. Cursing, her eyes squinted to get a better view of the small town beyond the river. Security guards hid inside their small space of shelter, reaching for their large umbrellas. Other people rushed to anything with a roof while some raced to their car as they fumbled through their pockets just to find their keys. A few shrieked in terror. Others scowled. While the children just furrowed their eyebrows as they looked from left to right.
• Yet out of everything, Avellana put her attention to the scent of the humans' sweet aroma that had lessened because of the rain.
• A sound erupted from her, and she dug her nails into her palms in disdain. She whipped her head to the side, her hair slapping the right side of her cheek. She had never mastered patience.
• 'You have to be a great person to control it', the echo of her father's voice made her sigh in annoyance. Her father had always lectured her of this flaw, yet it always went from her left ear to her right.
• Avellana squinted at the small houses that stuck together. There were a few alleyways around, and her eyes lit up when she spotted the corner that she usually entered. Trees still covered half the area and there were small streams just meters away from the place. Was she in the Philippines? Or was she in Philadelphia? She couldn't remember. With all the different places she had been to, it was all a blur.
• She hid behind a tree as she glanced back at the cliff. They really needed to change the location; she hated to jump off the ledge just to get food. She could feel her throat constricting at the thought.
• Without another word, she ran and jumped off the ridge. Her fingers didn't touch the rocks, not wanting to slow down. She wanted to laugh out loud or even spread her arms in the air and close her eyes, but she wasn't a day dreaming fool. She needed to keep her eyes open for humans who could see her.
• She didn't give another word when she dropped to the ground, crouching low. Avellana was meters away from the town, so it was good that there was a thick mist covering the small area. A dark navy hood covered her pale skin, allowing her to blend into the dark.
• The wind slapped her face, blowing dark brown strands off her cheeks. The corner of her lips inched upward, and before she could even run ten feet, her smile was growing. Her eyes crinkled and narrowed from the air slamming against her skin as if it didn't want to make her run at her fastest speed, purposely trying to slow her down.
• She still looked like a giddy child on Christmas day. It made her feel free; like the girl she was centuries ago. She was this carefree girl again like she once was when she had been with James and Olivia...
• No, she thought. Stop. The smile faded from her lips, and her run slowed into a stop. She refused to think about them. They're forgotten, she told herself before she continued to walk. They're gone. They're gone.
• What were the suggestions I need to apply for the clan? She thought once more, struggling to get rid of the memory that resurfaced.
• Her walk started to feel a bit forced; her feet felt like it had buckets of water bound to it. This was supposed to make her feel free, to forget everything, but it made her remember how trapped she was-well, is. Oh, the irony of life. She was used to it now being how she lived like this everyday, but there were times
• immortality had driven to her breaking point especially when she had a father who nagged her ears off and an uncle who she wanted to jump at and claw his face.
• Avellana looked around, not surprised that she could already see the brick houses in front of her. The lights were out and officers were still hidden under the roof top. She pulled up her hood again and continued to walk. Stalking through the street, she licked her lips when she had smelled the mild aroma that was left dancing in the air. Beating hears were heard everywhere, and it took all of her will power to not just jump into a house and kill every single person that was living inside.
• Her arms lay dead at her sides and she could feel her vision start to blur. Running wasn't supposed to take out all her energy, but after some harsh training and no blood for two days, she was as weak as a deck of cards. She yearned for some red fresh hot liquid...
• Bump. Bump. Bump.
• The repeating sound of a loud heartbeat directed her attention to the right. Pupils shrunk, she looked at where a bench had been place. If she had a heart, it would've leapt. There was a couple sitting on the seat in deep sleep. The man was snoring softly, and the woman was snuggled in his arms. Fingers twitching, Avellana's nose wrinkled when their foul smell hit her in the face.
• Alcohol never was a sweet scent, and it didn't really had the taste that she wanted to devour. She didn't need a sign to know that they were drunk...dead drunk if she may say.
• A smile wedged itself onto her lips as she grabbed the man by his shirt. Her teeth protruded into the flesh; blood rushing from the man's neck. Avellana found herself moaning as the sour ichor entered her mouth. It made her stomach hurt a bit, but she didn't care. All she needed was blood. Her nails dug into his neck, pushing the liquid out of his system.
• She groaned, drinking more of the ichor. She pulled the man's neck to her mouth, sucking it out of him. If this made her look like a soul eater, she didn't care.
• The man was turning paler and paler every minute she sucked; her skin warmed. When she let go, he slammed onto the ground like a ragged doll thrown into the trash. Alcohol still reeked from him, so maybe she could get away from this without a problem. An idea went into her mind, and she smirked.
• She turned to the woman, grabbing her by the shoulders and injected her sharp incisors into the woman's veins. She would take care of the man later. Within minutes, another lifeless body dropped on the concrete, her head slamming down
• the bench.
• Her brief satisfaction was disrupted. Another set of beating hears had grown louder around her, making her arms go stiff at her sides. She let out a low snarl.
• Humans.
• She scrambled to get a knife out from her pockets before shoving it in the man's neck, covering the punctures that her fangs had made. Avellana punched the man's ribs, and a cold smile twitched onto her face when the bones cracked. She tore the fabrics of his clothes, leaving him mostly naked and scratched his skin to leave scars from neck to leg.
• That was better.
• "George, I think I heard something." The approaching voice made Avellana rush to scratch the neck of the woman, hiding the marks.
• It was done. She ran to hide behind the nearby trees. Before she could even make a run a few meters farther from the trunks, she heard the next set of words in a different voice. It was deeper, and it had a bit of an accent in it. "Make it fast, will you?" It was more of a Scottish accent, she guessed. She had been to Scotland a few hundred years back, and she could recognize it from anywhere.
• "Shit, I think we got a homicide here..."
• Avellana covered her mouth, trying not to snort with laughter. It wasn't because of the mortals but because of the reason. Always the homicide reason-murder, yet they still never found the criminal. From what she had heard from other people, they had already found a few suspects. She wondered what had happened to them. Ha! The police station must be terribly busy.
• She whipped her head away from the men, a smirk still plastered on her face, and began to stride her way out of the town. She had hardly walked a meter before a rough hand wrapped around her forearm, yanking her close to the body behind her. Her eyes widened. The grip was strong. She couldn't escape. When she turned around, she growled. Of all people, she thought bitterly, it had to be him.
• "Putrid," she spat and the hold he had on her tightened. Avellana winced when she found herself pushed to the ground. Her elbows gashed against the thick roots and rocks. This was nothing but a prick to a finger.
• "Avellana," the man's eyes glinted and he sneered. "I think we should talk about your little slip up, shall we?"
• Smirking, he pulled out a dagger from his pocket. It was smeared in dried blood, and her eyes widened when she realized that it was the blade she had stuck into the man's throat.