My head snaps to the left. The overwhelming stench of humans and wet dogs fill my nostrils forcing me to flinch while nausea crawls up my throat. The men and women walking around me appear mostly mortal, but a few of my coven members catch my eye. The humans make their way across this campus with laughter and smiles, unknowing of the hunters walking among them. We watch their every move with hungry eyes and watering mouths.

It wasn't a habit of mine to fraternize with those in this area, the combination of smells made for a horrible experience, and I didn't believe in putting myself in uncomfortable situations unless necessary. Especially when I usually spent the time being looked over by every horny male, something about my appearance always drawing them in. Anything to do with the school's campus found a way to rub me the wrong way, making it a rare occasion for my feet to hit the grounds.

I'd never craved the art of college as others around me seemed to. My fellow vampires wanted to fill their years with manmade knowledge and friends of the human variety—overall fake experiences with a species that wouldn't last a hundred years. I doubted I would ever understand their decision.

Centuries into this life had perhaps made me colder than some, closed off from the aching need to feel included and be friendly to others for no good reason.

I especially disliked being around wolves or anything that smelled of their kind. Filthy devils with tails, and too much fur.

The yearly visit to a random pack land was enough contact to last most of my eternal life. As I wasn't much on small talk with such beasts, nor had I ever been impressed by most of their traditions—barbaric and unpleasant in all aspects.

Vampires are rough around the edges, but wolves took the cake with their possessive need to own one another.

Once a year I'm forced to endure the insane event held by the wolves. A mating ceremony that brings many unmated males and females together in hopes that they'll find the one they're supposed to be with. Only the oldest vampires were invited, occasionally bringing younger ones who were curious about the important traditions, but we were treated incredibly well. Overall, we seemed to be the "witnesses" to their markings, much like human marriage but inherently different.

I didn't enjoy it, being dragged along to an awkward celebration that never held my attention. That was until wolves started declaring vampires their mates.

I was there the first time a wolf had jumped from his seat and ripped into the throat of a vampire. Everyone lost their minds in that moment, vampires attacking wolves as we thought it had been a planned attack but when their moans filled the air it became obvious the situation had been...misread.

There were many reasons the newfound lovers surprised us, one being our lack of ability to reproduce which was an important factor in the pack's lives. Lowering the future expectancy of a pack was a show of weakness, and lead others to want to overthrow them.

Luckily, whatever gods they believed in had yet to pair an Alpha with one of my kind. Which would've led to even greater problems, and eventually if enough Alpha's became mated to their vampire counterparts the bloodlines would become extinct.

My lips couldn't help but turn upwards at the thought of what a mess that would be. Vampires could reject the bond easier than the other species, especially older ones, but it was strangely exceedingly rare that any of my kind rejected someone.

Perhaps it was our understanding of passing relationships and the need to feel whole after our souls had seemingly been ripped from us at some point that drove them to accept the wolves.

Our life expectancies also caused issues, for my kind especially as a werewolf didn't live forever whereas we never even aged. But the bond did something, it wrapped around those involved and when one of you died it seemed to take the other with it. Heartbreak is what they call it, killing us just as effectively as beheading and far more painful.

I've also heard that a vampire rejecting the bond can kill a wolf, I'd never personally known anyone to do such a thing, however.

Our humanity is smothered by what we are, and our emotions are harder to tap into than some making it easier for us to cause such pain to someone we are supposed to love.

"The one time you step on campus and our meeting gets canceled." Leslie's voice is calm but holds a hint of irritation making me look over at the woman as she steps next to me. I hold back my own sound of annoyance, only thankful that I wouldn't have to waste hours of my time listening to the same speech we received every year.

"They are asking us to head toward Crescent pack tomorrow morning, more of a demand than a question." She doesn't meet my gaze, probably knowing what she'd see already. Agitation.

"For what purpose?" I question, making her raise one of those dark brows in amusement.

Leslie was one of the prettiest humans I'd ever met, even without makeup she'd been a flawless beauty and eye-catching to any male within eyesight.

She'd gotten her black hair bobbed after her turn and kept it that way ever since. Her normally brown eyes tended to turn a more amber color when she was angry, and her height was impressive for a woman. She easily had eight inches on my five-foot frame.

I'd turned Leslie after finding her half-dead on the sidewalk one night about fifty years ago after her pimp had improperly cut her throat and left her for dead. She'd been eager when I'd offered her a life of strength over the horrid death that would've become her. Leslie was the only person I'd ever continued to maintain contact with once turned, mostly being her clingy nature and inability to let her hero go. I didn't mind nearly as much as I pretended to.

Girls' nights and never-ending roasts never got old.

"You know they never explain." Even though she's right I'm still not pleased with the response, thinking she should've pushed harder so I could understand the big change of schedule.

I'm quick to turn away from her, deciding this is a great excuse to visit the only part of the campus I enjoy: a small cafe at the edge of the school grounds

"We might as well get a piece of that flavored bread while we're over here," I call over my shoulder. She laughs loudly, and I can tell she's following me from the crunching of grass beneath her shoes.

"It's called a cake, Eira."

------

When I begin packing for the cold weather of the pack lands, I am reminded of how little I've traveled from this area. I'm aggravated by the realization that I'd be the only fool wearing a sleeveless shirt and shorts in the middle of the snow, even though my clothing had no impact on my actual comfortability. The weather didn't affect us like it did others, we could feel it but it didn't hurt us or cause us any harm.

I groan, knowing I only had an hour until we would be loading into the SUVs, and my packing had barely started. Procrastination had always been one of my worst features, that, and my immoral nature.

With only a few minutes left after getting my things together, I finally got around to doing my hair, putting the long white locks in a familiar braid that my mother used to do for me, one that matched that of my father's. Leslie always teased me about the old-time hairstyle, but it was practical and easy to deal with.

Beneath my hairline, aligning with my spine, was the "v" my oldest brother had inked onto me at a young age. It represented my bloodline and was a reminder of the family I'd lost.

My father was a Jarl, a leader of the clan when I was born and because of that, I'd grown up in a large home by the sea, nothing like the small-town I'd been residing in for a number of years. My complexion always leaned more towards my mothers, just a bit darker than my father's skin which had remained pale his entire life. No matter how much sun he seemed to get.

My father's beard had been red, and the running joke had been that my mother only married him for the little gingers they'd one day produce. None of his children inherited that gene, surprisingly. Not before they died anyway. My three older brothers were killed alongside my parents the day they were attacked and slaughtered. The only survivor had been a short white-haired girl with an appearance that happened to entrance the leader of that raid.

It had been the furthest thing from luck to have survived, to have been forced into the role and feel the pain of losing everyone I'd ever known.

I'd spent weeks in a house being bitten and used and eventually turned once the vampire decided he wanted me as more than a blood bag. Only when the leader of the coven helped me get my raging bloodlust under control was I able to leave. It had been hard, getting away from them and living on my own for so long with little understanding of what I had become.

My identity tainted.

"The SUVs are ready, but we do have enough time for a feeding before we get on the road." Leslie's practically sings the last part as she skips by my room.

I zip my bag and follow her out, ready to get everything done so I could return to the normalcy of my everyday life. My hatred for change was incredibly known by everyone around me. Leslie seems overly excited as she continues her way in front of me.

She's in her usual knee-length skirt with a blouse, I've become accustomed to her never-ending need to feel put together. We leave our bags by the back door before moving into the large dining room.

"Who will we be bringing with us?" She asks, a wicked gleam in her hungry eyes.

Humans are sitting in chairs around the dining room. We have them in comfortable seats as they spend their days in a blissful existence of peace. Once upon a time, I would've felt bad for taking these people to use and feed on for my own life, but this is how it is now. Plus, drinking straight from the vein is a more nutritional and overall enjoyable experience for my kind.

The humans are usually picked up from the streets—addicts or the homeless. We get them clean, make sure they have comfortable living quarters, and aren't isolated. It wasn't the most humane thing we've ever done, and although I knew there were better ways to go about it these people had a better life than they ever had. The only difference was their poison of choice.

"The wolves said as long as they don't cause any trouble, we can bring more than last time, but I'll only need one for myself." My words are gentle as I try not to scare any of them out of their half-conscious state, my tongue darting out over my lips as I feel the need to feed.

I choose a brunette boy with broad shoulders and big brown eyes, just my type I smirk. He was newer, but the way his body responded as I ran my fingers down his precious neck shows that he knows exactly what I can give him—the pleasure my kind want to give him as we take our fill of his blood.

I position myself behind the male and grip his hair, pulling hard enough to stretch his neck out completely and allow me to sink my teeth into the delicate flesh. A long groan leaves his lips along with the breath he'd been holding, our sounds of pleasure mixing as I take his fresh blood in greedy gulps and send every bit of pleasure I can through his being. Leslie is across the room enjoying the woman who sounds as though she's on the edge of ecstasy, and I can't blame her as I knew the heaven that came with one of our bites.

When I finally pull away from the human, I make sure to clean his neck, licking the wound to ensure it heals properly and doesn't scar. After a moment he lets out a small whine, the high crashing down as the endorphins are no longer injected into his veins but when I stroke his hair he calms down.

"You've always enjoyed playing with your food." Leslie laughs and by the time I look at her, she's begun cleaning her mouth with a napkin. I follow her actions before telling the boy that he'll be coming with us on the trip, he hurries to grab a bag of clothes.

"Oh, by the way, I know why we're leaving so early." My eyes snap to the black-haired woman and notice she's playing with her fingernails as I wait for her to continue. "The Lycans decided to come. We'll be staying there for five days, and we'll still be having the ceremony, but we'll arrive on the day they hold it. No one's entire-"

"Lycans are a myth, Leslie." I hissed the words, displeased with whatever story she's entertaining herself with this time. My eyes narrow on her, but her cool expression shows her lack of fear towards my flare of anger.

"They're real, been hiding for a while but we'll get to meet them once we are there. Aren't you excited? The ceremonies have become so boring we needed something to spice up the week."

Yes, that's exactly what we need.