Cursed Fate

Aurora

My black hunting suit, clinging to my body like a second skin, barely softened the bite of the November night’s cold as it roared relentlessly through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse district. The air itself felt hostile, sharp, metallic, soaked in the sour scent of rust and old oil. The copper taste in my mouth, a metallic blend of pure adrenaline and determination, had long become familiar, etched into me like an unwelcome memory. But the anger… the anger never dulled. It moved in my veins like a separate pulse, hotter than blood, pushing me forward even when I should have stopped.

I forced myself to shut out every unnecessary noise in the stale, echoing air. Only the wild, uneven rhythm of my own heartbeat and the faint, nervous breathing of my target hiding somewhere ahead remained. A predator listening for another predator. Except I, according to the Clan, wasn’t truly a hunter at all.

In the Hunter Clan, everyone else received something from nature. The spark of Fire, the strength of Earth, the cleansing flow of Water, or the freedom of Air. Everyone had an element to call their own, except me. I received nothing. My bloodline was "tainted" for reasons no one cared to explain, marking me as defective, disposable, a burden the elders tolerated only because it was easier than admitting they feared what they didn’t understand. Since I was incapable of summoning any elemental power, they sent me on the most dangerous missions, the ones with the lowest chance of survival.

They expected me to fail. They wanted me to fail. But I wasn’t going to give them that satisfaction tonight either.

No element, no power, only the sheer, unbreakable will they never managed to crush.

My target, a low-ranking vampire, had stupidly violated the territorial agreements. For that alone, he was worth hunting. I moved in silence, relying entirely on instinct; every motion of mine, especially as I gripped the dagger, demanded pure, brutal physical skill, standing in for the elemental magic I lacked. My muscles remembered everything my blood never learned.

Now. This is the moment.

With one explosive movement, I burst out of the shadows. The vampire jerked his head up at the last second, his eyes widening in animal panic, but it was already too late. Sliding across the ground, steadying myself with the tip of my boot, I carved the blade precisely across his Achilles tendon. The scream that tried to erupt from his throat died halfway, strangled by his own shock. Before his body had time to collapse, I was already at his neck, pivoting, calculating, locating the vulnerable point near his undead heart by routine. I drove the dagger into flesh with unstoppable resolve.

The vampire disintegrated into bitter ash that swirled upward like black snow.

For a moment, I stood there, leaning against the cracked wall of the warehouse, trying to steady my breath. The cold felt different now, less sharp, more suffocating. As if the night itself had inhaled. And then I felt it.

The drafty, freezing air grew warmer, heavier. The atmosphere thickened, almost tangible, as though an ancient force had settled over the district. Even the shadows seemed to shift, bowing to someone far more powerful than me.

A dark, elegant figure stepped out from the warehouse entrance, his silhouette impossibly composed despite the chaos around us. I recognized him instantly, even from afar, even from stories whispered in terror.

Elijah.

Head of the Vampire Clans’ High Council.

The Sovereign.

His obscenely expensive, perfectly tailored black suit gleamed subtly under the weak industrial lights, radiating an aura of effortless authority. He didn’t need fangs or claws to be terrifying. Power seeped from him like a slow, controlled storm, sending a shiver down my spine.

"You’re too noisy, Hunter," he snapped, his voice deep like a river murmuring beneath ice, beautiful, lethal. Two piercing, icy blue eyes fixed on me, burning with a command no mortal should be able to withstand. "Breaking the peace is already a poor choice, but loud, blatant killings are far worse. You taint the order my authority maintains."

"And why do you, Sovereign, need to be here for something so trivial?" The flame of concealed contempt burned in my voice before I could tame it.

Elijah began walking toward me. His movements were slow, deliberate, radiating absolute dominance. He did not rush. Predators like him never rushed.

"Maintaining order is my duty," he replied calmly. "And order dictates that you, the powerless outcast, leave this territory immediately, before the consequences catch you."

I snorted.

"Go to hell. This order isn’t mine."

Elijah stopped. In his blue eyes, something ancient and commanding flared to life. The air thickened again, folding in on itself. His mental control, the greatest weapon of the Sovereign, fell upon my mind like a collapsing mountain. A massive, invisible hand gripped my chest. My knees trembled under the weight, not from weakness but from the overwhelming instinct to obey.

This was the moment I should have felt an element rise within me. A shield. A spark. Something.

Nothing happened.

And then… the pressure vanished.

Just gone.

For the first time, Elijah’s perfect composure cracked. His face reflected anger, then shock, then something much rarer: pure, profound disbelief.

Why the hell am I still standing?

My confusion tangled with adrenaline. Elijah, who could command entire vampire armies with a thought, had just attempted to force his way into my mind with full strength. And now he wasn’t merely trying to control me. He was trying to crush me. Overwhelm me. Yet his power dissolved the moment it touched me, dispersing like smoke in a vacuum.

The spell rebounded, dissipating as if my soul were some unknown black hole consuming ethereal energy. Elijah stared at me with a look I had never seen directed at a human, furious disbelief merging with tense, electrifying excitement.

"Who the hell are you?" he whispered, not with the detached voice of the Sovereign, but with that of a man whose greatest weapon had just been rendered useless by a red-haired girl who shouldn’t have existed.

In the distance, shouts and vampire sirens echoed, fast, urgent. Not his guards this time. Others. A rival faction.

For a moment Elijah’s gaze flicked toward the distant commotion, then back to me. His eyes hardened. Calculation replaced shock.

We were trapped.