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Happy birthday to me.

I look at the beautiful red velvet cake, topped with vanilla frosting and sprinkles. A work of art, if I do say so myself.

I cut myself a slice and pour some double cream over it. Suddenly, all of the cats decide to make an appearance.

The twelve of them emerge from different rooms in the house, drawn by the smell of cream. Aries, the cat named after my star sign, jumps onto the table first, closely followed by Sagittarius and Pisces.

I roll my eyes and take my plate off the table, eating over my lap so that the cats can't get any.

After savouring every bite of my slice, I pour a little cream into their bowls. I treat them a lot, it's hard not to when I love them so much.

I put the cake away in the fridge and sigh heavily. Twenty-six years old and eating my own cake by myself.

It's too tragic for even me to bear, so I cut two slices and place them on one of my prettier plates. Slipping on my coat, I grab the cake and leave my house.

It takes about ten minutes for me to cross the pack territory. I reach the Alphas' door and knock once.

Alpha Leon answers and smiles when he sees me.

'Meera, happy birthday!' He greets me.

'Thank you, Alpha,' I reply. I hand out the plate to him. 'Some cake for you and Luna.'

'It looks delicious, thank you. Ingrid got you a present, hold on.'

He disappears from the door for a minute and returns with his wife, who is holding a brightly packaged gift.

I thank them and leave pretty quickly, unable to take the pity in their eyes. If there's one thing I hate, it's pity. And staring. Okay, so two things I hate.

I huff and carry my present back to the house. Once I'm inside, I open it. My heart lifts as I hold up the stunning dress.

It's a deep blue colour, which matches my eyes. I run my fingers over the smooth fabric, smiling at its soft touch.

Unable to resist, I go over to the mirror and hold it against my body. As always, my appearance hurts to see. It always does.

Twenty-six years old, with the appearance of a woman four times that age.

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I wake to Virgo jumping on the bed. He winds me and then licks my face. I scrunch up my nose and push him off.

After freshening up in the bathroom, I stand in front of the mirror. I brush out my grey hair and tie it back in two ponytails, wanting it out of the way. It's so long, it reaches my waist.

I pull the loose skin back on my face, stretching out the wrinkles. Even pulled back, you can see their tracks. These wrinkles are deep, the kind you'd find on a face older than a hundred.

A/N please don't think that I am age-shaming. We will all be old and wrinkly one day (hopefully) but our lead is upset that she never got to enjoy her youthful appearance. One of the good things about being old is that you were once young, it must be horrible to have that taken from you.

Damn that stupid witch for cursing me. Damn her to hell.

I scowl at my appearance, the loose skin on my chin wobbling as I shake my head in anger.

I guess I should be grateful she only gave me the appearance of an old woman, not the body. I'm still fit and healthy, I'm not hunched and in pain. But that almost makes it worse, I feel young, I just don't look it.

I eat more of my birthday cake for lunch, because fuck it.

After lunch, I go for my daily walk.

Despite my parents both being shifters, I don't have the ability to turn myself. I am a shifter by blood, but not in body. I am a healer. We are not as rare as you'd think, but when you're born a healer, you automatically can't shift.

You get the gift, not the wolf.

I can heal certain ailments by making potions, but that's the extent of my magic. The witch that cursed me? A whole lot more powerful than me.

I trek across the territory, moving over into No Man's Land.

I like to stay away from my pack. Although I'm loyal to them and here whenever they need help, I don't socialise. I hate the stares. Most of them knew me before I was cursed, they remember how I used to look and all I see is pity shining in their eyes.

I live a lonely existence with my cats and that's how I like it.

A branch on the ground makes me stumble. I curse under my breath and fall a couple of steps forwards. I catch myself from falling with a nearby tree.

After righting myself and brushing my hands on my jeans, I turn to see what branch tripped me.

My stomach flips as my eyes land on the object that is most definitely not a branch. A severed arm is lying in the undergrowth.

I quickly look around and scent the air, trying to determine who's arm it is.

Blood fills my nostrils and nervously, I walk a little further.

A clearing appears, filled with corpses.

Bodies are everywhere. Limbs severed from torsos, blood coating the ground and trees. It's a blood bath and it makes me feel instantly nauseous.

My sensitive ears make out a faint heartbeat. On healer instinct, my eyes scan the bodies, trying to see which one is still living.

My eyes land on a man across the clearing and I run over to him. I kneel at his side and gasp when I see his wounds.

A large branch is protruding from his stomach and bleeding profusely. His eyes are closed, as is his mouth, but his fangs are nestled on his bottom lip.

Vampire.

He must have done all this. The other parts are dressed in all navy clothing, This man is in black and has a load of weapons attached to his sides.

A hunter.

A vampire paid to hunt other vampires. His job is take out ones that pose a threat to their existence. If the bloodlust becomes too much and a vampire kills too much and too erratically, they need to be exterminated.

He must be good, to have taken out at least five of his kind.

I inspect his wounds, wincing when I see that he has been cut with a poisoned blade. The toxin is in his system, he will die if I don't help him.

The healer in me won't let that happen, I can't ignore my instincts to save a life, no matter what species they are part of.

I want to ask my pack for help, but they will not share my desire to help. They wouldn't kill him, but they certainly wouldn't help him, either.

I sigh and get to my feet and hook my hands under his armpits. With great difficulty, I drag the unconscious vampire back to my house. It takes almost an hour.

I'm exhausted when I fall through the door. Two of my cats jump back in shock. As I push his legs into the house and close the front door, the braver ones come to sniff his hair.

Once they've determined he is of no importance to them, they leave me to it.

'Thanks for the help, guys,' I mutter sarcastically as I drag the male vampire into the living room.

I collect some towels from my linen cupboard and spread them across the sofa. He's not staining it with his blood.

When it's protected, I heave him up onto it. He's unconscious, and will be long after I treat his wounds. The poison will knock him out for a day or two.

With him safely lying down, I go to the kitchen and start preparing the potions to save his life.

The cats sit with me whilst I work. I grind powders with my mortar and pestle. I dice herbs and shell seeds.

I place my miniature cauldron on the main ring of my Aga and add the ingredients one by one. I heat the pot until the liquid bubbles.

Using oven gloves, I take it off the heat and leave it to cool.

After half an hour, I ladle the potion into a glass and take a sniff.

Perfect.

The vampire is still passed out on my sofa. I prop him up with some pillows and cup the back of his head. I gently open his mouth and press the cup to his lips.

Slowly, so that he doesn't choke, I pour the potion into his mouth. He splutters at first, his eyes squeezing more tightly shut.

'Drink, it will heal you,' I urge gently.

He swallows the potion and then becomes unresponsive again.

Happy that he has taken it, I begin working on a salve for his wounds.

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Two hours later, the salve is ready. It had to chill for an hour in my fridge.

I grip the pot tightly in my hands and kneel beside the vampire. His clothes are soaked with blood and I scrunch up my nose.

I'm going to have to remove his clothes to get at the wounds.

With great difficulty, I unclip his kevlar vest. I grab a knife from the kitchen and cut through the shoulder straps. This separates it into two pieces. I slide one from under him and take the top one off his chest.

He's wearing a black t-shirt underneath, so I cut through that, too. Once all of the soiled material is removed, I grab some cloths and a bowl of warm water.

Carefully, I clean the blood and grime from his body. Gradually, his dark, muscular chest is revealed to me.

I try not ogle him, but damn, that is a fine body. I haven't been with any guy, well...since the first guy when I was sixteen.

It's been ten years, because let's be honest, it's a rarity for a guy my age to want to date some that looks four times their age.

And I'd feel a bit weird about it, too.

Anyway, it's been a long time, and this delicious male specimen is not helping matters.

I focus on the task at hand rub the salve into his wounds. His eyebrows furrow, but he makes no other move to wake from his unconscious state.

Once he's covered in the balm, I wash my hands. I stand at the doorway with my hands on my hips, wondering what the hell to do now.

He grunts and moves slightly.

I rush over to him and kneel at his side.

'Can you hear me?' I ask softly. 'You're safe now, you're in my house.'

His eyes slowly blink open and he looks at me. My breath catches in my throat. His deep red eyes are hypnotic.

'Mea,' he groans, his voice thick and rough.

'No, my name is Meera,' I correct him.

His eyes close and he passes out again.

Damn, it's gonna be a long night.

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