The Origin (The Vampire's Forbidden Catalyst) Series 1

Elara’s POV

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

I turned so fast I nearly slipped on the tiled floor.

Andy stood at the entrance of the tiny kitchen like he was starring in some romance movie. One hand was tucked behind his back, and the other was trying to flatten his messy brown hair.

The apartment was small and barely worth what he probably paid for it. The cream walls were chipped in places, the couch looked older than us, and the ceiling fan made an annoying clicking sound every few seconds.

But he had tried.

There were cheap candles on the table, two slices of pizza on paper plates, and one flower sitting inside a drinking glass.

It was ridiculous.

It was kind of perfect.

“You’re smiling too hard,” I said, folding my arms as I leaned against the counter.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing illegal,” Andy said immediately.

I narrowed my eyes. “Andy.”

He sighed. “Okay. Maybe a little illegal.”

Then he brought his hand forward and showed me a small velvet box.

My heart skipped.

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, I absolutely did.” He walked toward me with that crooked grin I could never stay mad at. “Open it.”

I took the box slowly. “If this is fake jewelry from a roadside stall—”

“It is not,” he said, sounding offended. “Have some faith in me.”

I laughed and opened it.

Inside was a silver necklace with a tiny moon charm.

For a moment, I just stared.

“Andy…”

“I know it’s not expensive,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “And yeah... I took money from my dad’s wallet.”

“You stole from your dad?”

“I borrowed it.”

“That is not borrowing.”

“It is if I plan to replace it someday.”

I burst out laughing.

The nervous look on his face disappeared, replaced by relief.

“So... you like it?”

I looked at the necklace again, then back at him.

“I love it.”

His shoulders dropped dramatically. “Thank God.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet,” he said, stepping closer, “you’ve dated me for five whole months.”

My smile softened.

“Five whole months.”

He carefully lifted the necklace from the box.

“Turn around.”

I moved my hair aside while he fastened it around my neck. His fingers brushed the back of my skin, warm and slightly shaky.

When I faced him again, he was staring at me.

“What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks.

“You say that all the time.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Because it’s true.”

I couldn’t help smiling.

I stepped forward, pulling him into a kiss. His hands settled gently at my waist before sliding to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair to pull me closer. When we finally pulled apart, the air between us felt heavy—electric. We had never made it past kissing before, but tonight, I didn't want to stop.

“I have something for you, too,” I whispered, stepping back. I watched his breath hitch as I reached for the hem of my top and pulled it over my head.

“E-elara? What are you doing?” he stammered. His mouth hung open, his eyes blown wide as they dropped to my chest.

I didn't answer. I reached for the clasp of my bra, let it fall, and stepped into his space. For the first time in the months we’d been dating, I was completely exposed to him. The look of pure shock on his face made me feel powerful. I leaned into him, pushing him back until his knees hit the couch and he tumbled onto the cushions.

He tried to say something, a protest or a question, but I silenced him with a kiss. I let my tongue slide against his, my hand dropping to the buckle of his belt to expose him bare while his palms finally found my hard nipples squeezing them.

We were lost in the heat of it, and I was about to have sex with my boyfriend, until the door bursted open.

I bolted upright with force. The romantic haze shattered. As the door splintered, my first instinct was to hide my bare body. I lunged for my top on the floor, clutching the bunched-up fabric against my chest like a shield, my bare skin shivering in the sudden draft from the broken door.

“Get the girl!” one of the men barked.

“Elara, get back!” Andy yelled. He scrambled to stand “Who the hell are you people?”

He didn't even look at Andy; his focus was entirely on me.

I scrambled backward, still clutching my top, but one of the men was faster. He lunged, his gloved hand catching my wrist. I screamed, pulling away, but the fabric slipped from my fingers, fluttering uselessly to the floor.

“Let her go!” Andy roared. He threw himself at the man holding me, swinging wildly.

For a split second, I thought he might save me. But the second man stepped in, hitting Andy's head with the object he had grabbed.

“Andy!” I shrieked, my voice tearing through my throat.

His eyes rolled back, and he fell. His head hit the edge of the coffee table, before he fainted

Before I could shout, I was dragged into their car, still half-dressed, clutching the remnants of my shirt to my chest as I kicked at the door.

"Let me out! Please!" I screamed, my voice cracking.

"Shut her up," one of them said in front without looking back.

The man beside me backhanded me across the face. My head snapped to the side, the copper taste of blood filling my mouth. "Shut it,”

The car lurched off the main road, the tires crunching over gravel and then soft, wet earth.The branches of the trees scraped against the windows. When the engine finally died, the silence of the woods was more terrifying than the noise of the car.

The door was yanked open. A hand knotted into my hair and dragged me out. My bare feet hit the dirt, and I let out a choked sob as I was hauled toward a corner.

Fear—the kind that turns your blood to ice—jolted through me. As the man reached for his belt, I saw the flash of steel.

A knife.

With a sudden burst of desperation, I slammed my elbow into his ribs and kicked as hard as I could at his knee. He grunted, his grip on my hair loosening just enough.

I ran.

I didn't care about the branches tearing at my skin or the rocks cutting my feet. I just ran for the darkness of the trees. But I didn't get ten feet.

A hand caught my hair again, yanking me backward so hard my neck snapped. I was spun around, and before I could draw breath to scream, the first blade sank into my side.

It was cold. Then it was hot. Then it was everything.

I felt the steel slide in again. And again. I sank to my knees, my hands fluttering uselessly against the man's chest. I looked up, my vision blurring, trying to find a face behind the mask. "Why?" I whispered.

He didn't answer. He just watched as the light left my eyes. They carried me—my body limp, my blood soaking into the thirsty soil—and dumped me there

Everything went black.

I’m dead.

That was my first thought. But dead people don't feel the weight of the world on their chests. Dead people don't smell the suffocating scent of rot and old cedar.

My eyes snapped open. I was in total darkness. My fingers clawed at the air, hitting cold, splintering wood. I was in a coffin. I was underground.

No. No, no, no!

A scream built in my throat, but there was no air to carry it. A strange, humming heat began to radiate from the center of my chest, spreading through my limbs like liquid fire. My hands—once soft—felt like iron. I punched upward. The wood groaned. I punched again, the coffin lid opening.

I was in an open grave.

I hauled myself out of the grave, gasping. I wasn't naked. The shirt I’d been clutching was gone; instead, I was draped in a dirty and smelly tattered gown.

I stood there, shivering in the moonlight, looking down at my hands. They were covered in mud, but the wounds in my side... they were gone.

Then, I heard it. a growl that vibrated through the very marrow of my bones.

I spun around, my breath hitching. In the shadows of the twisted trees, a pair of glowy yellow eyes ignited—glowing.

Before I could even scream, the shadow lunged. It was a blur of speed, a nightmare come to life. Something slammed into me, pinning me against the rough, cold stone of a headstone.

I didn't have time to process the face of the creature—a man, impossibly pale, his eyes burning with a starving madness—before he struck..

Sharp, icy fangs tore into the side of my neck.

I let out a broken gasp as I felt my strength fading. He froze for a heartbeat, his grip slackening as he drank

my blood like he was starved.

He pulled back just enough to look at me. My vision was blurry but I heard the name he had called me before darkness claimed me.

Genevieve.