However, he didn’t need to look dangerous because always near him was the woman who he’d been travelling with for quite some time, someone who looked more accustomed to fighting on the fields than watching him play at a tavern.

While that did mean that they drew various glances around town, Alexander always took to the attention quickly, flitting around and giggling and strumming his lute while his traveling companion did the opposite.

Isabella played with knives while Alex played the lute. When pressed she would say she traveled with Alex out of convenience but truthfully she had grown quite fond of the bard. She could never bring herself to admit it out loud but she felt a duty to protect Alex.

The day they met Isabella tried to swindle Alex out of some coin he had made playing in a tavern. Not only had he thwarted her but he had demanded she show him the sleight of hand she had used. From that moment she had felt the stirrings in her heart of a great friendship.

“Am I next, are you going to rip me apart before another hunter finds you covered in my blood and kills you, drives a dagger into your chest?”

"Kill me," she croaked. "I didn't ask for this. I don't want to live this way. Kill me. I'm your friend, Alex. You can't leave me like this."

Then, lips pressed against her head, the bard murmured, “if I were to kill you, I’d have to kill myself. Are our souls not connected after all this time?”

“We’ll…figure it out, love. Do you remember when we ran out of funds to pay a tab at…whatever the name of that tavern in the West was, and the owner threatened to kill us? We figured out a way to make money fast and escaped with all limbs attached.”

Then, clearing his throat, he jumped into preparing dinner and building a fire with the concentration of a drill sergeant, manicured brows furrowing and tongue resting over his teeth. It was only when he himself sat down that he realised his mistake: Isabella likely didn’t eat what he did anymore.

Doing his best to backtrack, shifting two plates into one, the bard ended up just spilling some of the food into the fire, cursing as the flames rose.

When Jan also reared up, Alexander shot up, excused himself to trudge into the closet, let out a loud, “fucking hell, just fuck!”, and then walked back to sit next to Isabella.

"Anyone else would have given up on me," she murmured. "Alex, my friend, I'm lucky to have you."

As her hands rubbed his arm they grew warmer, warmed by his heat, and soon it was as if nothing had changed. Isabella leaned her head on top of Alex's, coaxing his head onto her shoulder. She soothed him as best she could.

Shifting closer so that he was fitted against her, Alexander murmured an, “mmhm, where’s the insult that always accompanies such sweet phrase?” followed by a quick, “I’d do anything for you.”

Lifting his head to look at Isabella, he suddenly grew serious, the skin around his eyes tightening and back straightening.

“I don’t think it’s fair that you died before me when I made the promise that I’d do it for you; also, I thought dead people lived under dirt and gravestones, but you’re still here…like, you’re still staring at me and rubbing my arm a-and talking to me.”

“H-how are we even going to get you into town? What happens if we get to a bar and some drunkard cuts himself and starts bleeding? What if there’s someone there who knows what you are?”

"I'm better than some common animal," she murmured. "I will control myself. I'll learn how. He did it when he found us in a tavern, Alex. He hid himself well. I'll hide myself too."

Then, at the mention of her horse, she snorted.

As if unable to stop himself from confronting that fear, he cleared his throat and casually explained that, “if you’re able to hide yourself, then I should be able to cut myself in front of you, and you won’t even react.”

“…also, that’s because Jan senses pure souls like mine and turns away from those who have blackened hearts.”

Still wary of her new abilities, the bard rose to extinguish the fire before mumbling that he was going to “get some sleep even if you can’t” and laying on his side away from his companion.

Even when he awoke, the bard didn’t say much for once, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stumbling over to Jan to coo at him. Alexander didn’t even complain about the state of his precious lute, merely turning to Isabella mid-morning and asking if she was ready to keep going.

However, he didn’t need to look dangerous because always near him was the woman who he’d been travelling with for quite some time, someone who looked more accustomed to fighting on the fields than watching him play at a tavern.

While that did mean that they drew various glances around town, Alexander always took to the attention quickly, flitting around and giggling and strumming his lute while his traveling companion did the opposite.

Isabella played with knives while Alex played the lute. When pressed she would say she traveled with Alex out of convenience but truthfully she had grown quite fond of the bard. She could never bring herself to admit it out loud but she felt a duty to protect Alex.

The day they met Isabella tried to swindle Alex out of some coin he had made playing in a tavern. Not only had he thwarted her but he had demanded she show him the sleight of hand she had used. From that moment she had felt the stirrings in her heart of a great friendship.

“Am I next, are you going to rip me apart before another hunter finds you covered in my blood and kills you, drives a dagger into your chest?”

"Kill me," she croaked. "I didn't ask for this. I don't want to live this way. Kill me. I'm your friend, Alex. You can't leave me like this."

Then, lips pressed against her head, the bard murmured, “if I were to kill you, I’d have to kill myself. Are our souls not connected after all this time?”

“We’ll…figure it out, love. Do you remember when we ran out of funds to pay a tab at…whatever the name of that tavern in the West was, and the owner threatened to kill us? We figured out a way to make money fast and escaped with all limbs attached.”

Then, clearing his throat, he jumped into preparing dinner and building a fire with the concentration of a drill sergeant, manicured brows furrowing and tongue resting over his teeth. It was only when he himself sat down that he realised his mistake: Isabella likely didn’t eat what he did anymore.

Doing his best to backtrack, shifting two plates into one, the bard ended up just spilling some of the food into the fire, cursing as the flames rose.

When Jan also reared up, Alexander shot up, excused himself to trudge into the closet, let out a loud, “fucking hell, just fuck!”, and then walked back to sit next to Isabella.

"Anyone else would have given up on me," she murmured. "Alex, my friend, I'm lucky to have you."

As her hands rubbed his arm they grew warmer, warmed by his heat, and soon it was as if nothing had changed. Isabella leaned her head on top of Alex's, coaxing his head onto her shoulder. She soothed him as best she could.

Shifting closer so that he was fitted against her, Alexander murmured an, “mmhm, where’s the insult that always accompanies such sweet phrase?” followed by a quick, “I’d do anything for you.”

Lifting his head to look at Isabella, he suddenly grew serious, the skin around his eyes tightening and back straightening.

“I don’t think it’s fair that you died before me when I made the promise that I’d do it for you; also, I thought dead people lived under dirt and gravestones, but you’re still here…like, you’re still staring at me and rubbing my arm a-and talking to me.”

“H-how are we even going to get you into town? What happens if we get to a bar and some drunkard cuts himself and starts bleeding? What if there’s someone there who knows what you are?”

"I'm better than some common animal," she murmured. "I will control myself. I'll learn how. He did it when he found us in a tavern, Alex. He hid himself well. I'll hide myself too."

Then, at the mention of her horse, she snorted.

As if unable to stop himself from confronting that fear, he cleared his throat and casually explained that, “if you’re able to hide yourself, then I should be able to cut myself in front of you, and you won’t even react.”

“…also, that’s because Jan senses pure souls like mine and turns away from those who have blackened hearts.”

However, he didn’t need to look dangerous because always near him was the woman who he’d been travelling with for quite some time, someone who looked more accustomed to fighting on the fields than watching him play at a tavern.

While that did mean that they drew various glances around town, Alexander always took to the attention quickly, flitting around and giggling and strumming his lute while his traveling companion did the opposite.

Isabella played with knives while Alex played the lute. When pressed she would say she traveled with Alex out of convenience but truthfully she had grown quite fond of the bard. She could never bring herself to admit it out loud but she felt a duty to protect Alex.

The day they met Isabella tried to swindle Alex out of some coin he had made playing in a tavern. Not only had he thwarted her but he had demanded she show him the sleight of hand she had used. From that moment she had felt the stirrings in her heart of a great friendship.

“Am I next, are you going to rip me apart before another hunter finds you covered in my blood and kills you, drives a dagger into your chest?”

"Kill me," she croaked. "I didn't ask for this. I don't want to live this way. Kill me. I'm your friend, Alex. You can't leave me like this."

Then, lips pressed against her head, the bard murmured, “if I were to kill you, I’d have to kill myself. Are our souls not connected after all this time?”

“We’ll…figure it out, love. Do you remember when we ran out of funds to pay a tab at…whatever the name of that tavern in the West was, and the owner threatened to kill us? We figured out a way to make money fast and escaped with all limbs attached.”

Then, clearing his throat, he jumped into preparing dinner and building a fire with the concentration of a drill sergeant, manicured brows furrowing and tongue resting over his teeth. It was only when he himself sat down that he realised his mistake: Isabella likely didn’t eat what he did anymore.

Doing his best to backtrack, shifting two plates into one, the bard ended up just spilling some of the food into the fire, cursing as the flames rose.

When Jan also reared up, Alexander shot up, excused himself to trudge into the closet, let out a loud, “fucking hell, just fuck!”, and then walked back to sit next to Isabella.

"Anyone else would have given up on me," she murmured. "Alex, my friend, I'm lucky to have you."

As her hands rubbed his arm they grew warmer, warmed by his heat, and soon it was as if nothing had changed. Isabella leaned her head on top of Alex's, coaxing his head onto her shoulder. She soothed him as best she could.

Shifting closer so that he was fitted against her, Alexander murmured an, “mmhm, where’s the insult that always accompanies such sweet phrase?” followed by a quick, “I’d do anything for you.”

Lifting his head to look at Isabella, he suddenly grew serious, the skin around his eyes tightening and back straightening.

“I don’t think it’s fair that you died before me when I made the promise that I’d do it for you; also, I thought dead people lived under dirt and gravestones, but you’re still here…like, you’re still staring at me and rubbing my arm a-and talking to me.”

“H-how are we even going to get you into town? What happens if we get to a bar and some drunkard cuts himself and starts bleeding? What if there’s someone there who knows what you are?”

He wouldn’t go as far to say that it was a calling-those claims were reserved for those who bragged about their successful takedowns. Instead, the assassin thought of it as a job, one that he simply was good at.

The one he received that morning, with an illustration of his target, didn’t seem out of the ordinary at first. The nearby kingdoms had been suffering from power disputes for months, and it was only time before one royal put out a hit on another.

As Pierre set out-no horse, they were too noisy and he liked to travel light anyways-on the path that would lead him to the prince, all he could think about was when he’d get to eat next rather than the cruel act he’d have to commit for payment.

Isabella was good at her job because she had always been something of a brick wall. Born early with a fragile heart and kept safe like a prisoner in her young years she had learned to make herself strong. Exceeding expectations was her area of expertise. That was how she found herself appointed to the crown prince as a bodyguard.

They did not remain at the castle long after her appointment. They left the very same night, Prince Teddy disguised as a peasant and Isabella disguised as his wife. Teddy was not taking to his role well. He was thick-headed and boisterous and he did not know how to keep his mouth shut.

Isabella was beginning to fear that if his assassin did not find them first, she might kill the prince herself.

It was in that moment that the two hunters actually passed by Alexander and his followers, though neither party noticed each other. Instead, fate would ensnare them all later that evening in a tavern on the other side of the bustling town. For now, the captain set about looking for places to eat, complaining that, “there never seems to be good quality meat around here, and I cannot stand eating fish.”

Bella scoffed. "Neither can you," she said.

Teddy stuck his tongue out like a child.

Noticing how late in the afternoon it already was, Alexander let out a displeased, “hm” before offering the pair dinner at a nearby tavern. It was that same tavern in which Pierre was offering Dario a meal and respite.

Although the other hunter may not have noticed, Pierre took note immediately of his target when he stepped in, green eyes roaming over the crown prince before flitting to his partner. He assumed the woman was the same one Dario continuously cursed, though he didn’t comment on it.

Pointing toward the prince and then Alexander, he murmured something about knowing the both of them before adding that, “this would go better if your woman were isolated, correct?”

“If you lose the element of surprise, she will disappear into the wilderness, and I fear I’ll have to leave you to find her alone.”

He then motioned for the other hunter to sit down and pretend to eat, himself not making any moves to do so. Instead, Pierre hummed softly as he played with the leather gloves on his hands, perfectly moulded to slender fingers and even sharper nails.

When he looked up, it was to track the crown prince with his gaze; he couldn’t help but think that the shorter man was handsome, like his environment knew he was royalty and thus shielded him from the world. Furthermore, when his laughter drifted across the bar, it seemed genuine.

Alexander was trying to be the source of that laughter, voice loosened by a few pints and food in his system. In fact, he himself started to get too loud…until he suddenly paused. Eyes widening, he slowly turned to Isabella with a low, “is there somebody after you…there’s a man over there that is staring at you like you’re his prey…”

"Oh no," she murmured. "How did he get here?"

"Who?" Teddy asked, looking wildly around.

Isabella grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "We have to go," she said. "Now."

"Now?" Teddy asked. "But I'm not finished my beer."

"You fool," Isabella hissed. "It will be the last thing you ever drink if you don't follow me right now."

When he did speak, it was a dejected, “it’s already too late, you don’t escape him, once his eyes fall on you, you already belong to him.”

It was unclear whether the captain was talking about Dario or Pierre, though his fear might’ve been about them both.

The men who were being spoken about were still seated, though Pierre was slowly starting to move to rise. Subtle shifts in his shoulder muscles and tensing of his jaw signified he either was set to pounce across the room or combust.

Instead, the taller man slowly motioned for Dario to rise to his feet, a soft, “they won’t, if you don’t want that” slipping past his lips.

He still knew the crew respected him, not for rank, but for the steadiness of his hands and the way he listened to the ocean like it spoke only to him. Alexander loved the water not just for its vastness, but for the secrets, those he wasn’t quite ready to even reveal to himself.

That night, as dusk slid into dark, he stood by the railing, watching the swell. There was a stillness in the air, a pause too long to be natural. And Alexander, ever the listener, felt something was rising to meet them.

There were some who joked behind Alex's back that he loved the cold ocean because it was warmer than his wife. The captain Isabella Rossi was not a loving wife to her husband, but to her career. She tried to be a good friend where she would not, or could not, succeed as a spouse but she found herself more than often glued at the helm. This night was one like that. Isabella could not be torn away from her post.

The silence over the ocean was louder than the siren's song that followed. It was less a song, to be honest, and more of a clicking noise in the beginning. It was curious, just curious and subtle enough to be noticed by Alexander.

Alexander thanked himself that his parents weren’t farmers, they owned the drug store in the sleepy town, but he felt they had as many kids as most. The town was large enough that the kids weren’t forced to all play with each other in some one-room-schoolhouse but small enough that everybody knew the Pine last name.

Furthermore, everyone knew that a new family was moving to town, and the young boy would be damned if he didn’t see them in person. Pushing his way to the front of the crowd around the house, he took note of the ages of the children, already planning to brag to his younger sister that there was a boy his age.

"My parents are a little busy," he stammered. "They'll be more receptive to visitors soon. My little sister, she's just a baby, isn't adjusting well to the move. I don't know how she even knows things are different but she does."

Stefan glanced over at Colin.

Her household was clearly one of hand me downs and borrowing supplies, but in a sentimental way rather than a signifier of not having much. As she sat down, she shook her head at Colin, advising him to, “stop spending so much time at the library! Be outside more, like your brother.”

His brother was crinkling his nose at Shuonun not far off with a, “you have a baby in your house? That’s gross. By the way, babies don’t come out of your stomach, I saw something on TV about it, but my sisters made me turn it off.”

Wiping his mouth on his shirt sleeve, the smaller boy turned to Shuonun, clearly set on asking him yet another question.

“So, were you like born in France? You don’t look very French, your hair’s too blonde, and you don’t have an accent like on TV.”

Wiping his nose on his sleeve, he then got up from the table and carried both dishes to the sink, weaving around the other kids in the room. When he sat down again near Colin, it still wasn’t known how much they’d both change over the years. For now, Alexander was a tornado that couldn’t be stopped and Colin and arid savannah in danger of ignition at the slightest heat wave.

However, he didn’t need to look dangerous because always near him was the woman who he’d been travelling with for quite some time, someone who looked more accustomed to fighting on the fields than watching him play at a tavern.

While that did mean that they drew various glances around town, Alexander always took to the attention quickly, flitting around and giggling and strumming his lute while his traveling companion did the opposite.

Isabella played with knives while Alex played the lute. When pressed she would say she traveled with Alex out of convenience but truthfully she had grown quite fond of the bard. She could never bring herself to admit it out loud but she felt a duty to protect Alex.

The day they met Isabella tried to swindle Alex out of some coin he had made playing in a tavern. Not only had he thwarted her but he had demanded she show him the sleight of hand she had used. From that moment she had felt the stirrings in her heart of a great friendship.

“Am I next, are you going to rip me apart before another hunter finds you covered in my blood and kills you, drives a dagger into your chest?”

"Kill me," she croaked. "I didn't ask for this. I don't want to live this way. Kill me. I'm your friend, Alex. You can't leave me like this."

Then, lips pressed against her head, the bard murmured, “if I were to kill you, I’d have to kill myself. Are our souls not connected after all this time?”

“We’ll…figure it out, love. Do you remember when we ran out of funds to pay a tab at…whatever the name of that tavern in the West was, and the owner threatened to kill us? We figured out a way to make money fast and escaped with all limbs attached.”

Then, clearing his throat, he jumped into preparing dinner and building a fire with the concentration of a drill sergeant, manicured brows furrowing and tongue resting over his teeth. It was only when he himself sat down that he realised his mistake: Isabella likely didn’t eat what he did anymore.

Doing his best to backtrack, shifting two plates into one, the bard ended up just spilling some of the food into the fire, cursing as the flames rose.

When Jan also reared up, Alexander shot up, excused himself to trudge into the closet, let out a loud, “fucking hell, just fuck!”, and then walked back to sit next to Isabella.

He wouldn’t go as far to say that it was a calling-those claims were reserved for those who bragged about their successful takedowns. Instead, the assassin thought of it as a job, one that he simply was good at.

The one he received that morning, with an illustration of his target, didn’t seem out of the ordinary at first. The nearby kingdoms had been suffering from power disputes for months, and it was only time before one royal put out a hit on another.

As Pierre set out-no horse, they were too noisy and he liked to travel light anyways-on the path that would lead him to the prince, all he could think about was when he’d get to eat next rather than the cruel act he’d have to commit for payment.

Isabella was good at her job because she had always been something of a brick wall. Born early with a fragile heart and kept safe like a prisoner in her young years she had learned to make herself strong. Exceeding expectations was her area of expertise. That was how she found herself appointed to the crown prince as a bodyguard.

They did not remain at the castle long after her appointment. They left the very same night, Prince Teddy disguised as a peasant and Isabella disguised as his wife. Teddy was not taking to his role well. He was thick-headed and boisterous and he did not know how to keep his mouth shut.

Isabella was beginning to fear that if his assassin did not find them first, she might kill the prince herself.

It was in that moment that the two hunters actually passed by Alexander and his followers, though neither party noticed each other. Instead, fate would ensnare them all later that evening in a tavern on the other side of the bustling town. For now, the captain set about looking for places to eat, complaining that, “there never seems to be good quality meat around here, and I cannot stand eating fish.”

Bella scoffed. "Neither can you," she said.

Teddy stuck his tongue out like a child.

Noticing how late in the afternoon it already was, Alexander let out a displeased, “hm” before offering the pair dinner at a nearby tavern. It was that same tavern in which Pierre was offering Dario a meal and respite.

Although the other hunter may not have noticed, Pierre took note immediately of his target when he stepped in, green eyes roaming over the crown prince before flitting to his partner. He assumed the woman was the same one Dario continuously cursed, though he didn’t comment on it.

Pointing toward the prince and then Alexander, he murmured something about knowing the both of them before adding that, “this would go better if your woman were isolated, correct?”

“If you lose the element of surprise, she will disappear into the wilderness, and I fear I’ll have to leave you to find her alone.”

He then motioned for the other hunter to sit down and pretend to eat, himself not making any moves to do so. Instead, Pierre hummed softly as he played with the leather gloves on his hands, perfectly moulded to slender fingers and even sharper nails.

When he looked up, it was to track the crown prince with his gaze; he couldn’t help but think that the shorter man was handsome, like his environment knew he was royalty and thus shielded him from the world. Furthermore, when his laughter drifted across the bar, it seemed genuine.

Alexander was trying to be the source of that laughter, voice loosened by a few pints and food in his system. In fact, he himself started to get too loud…until he suddenly paused. Eyes widening, he slowly turned to Isabella with a low, “is there somebody after you…there’s a man over there that is staring at you like you’re his prey…”

However, he didn’t need to look dangerous because always near him was the woman who he’d been travelling with for quite some time, someone who looked more accustomed to fighting on the fields than watching him play at a tavern.

While that did mean that they drew various glances around town, Alexander always took to the attention quickly, flitting around and giggling and strumming his lute while his traveling companion did the opposite.

Isabella played with knives while Alex played the lute. When pressed she would say she traveled with Alex out of convenience but truthfully she had grown quite fond of the bard. She could never bring herself to admit it out loud but she felt a duty to protect Alex.

The day they met Isabella tried to swindle Alex out of some coin he had made playing in a tavern. Not only had he thwarted her but he had demanded she show him the sleight of hand she had used. From that moment she had felt the stirrings in her heart of a great friendship.

“Am I next, are you going to rip me apart before another hunter finds you covered in my blood and kills you, drives a dagger into your chest?”

"Kill me," she croaked. "I didn't ask for this. I don't want to live this way. Kill me. I'm your friend, Alex. You can't leave me like this."

Then, lips pressed against her head, the bard murmured, “if I were to kill you, I’d have to kill myself. Are our souls not connected after all this time?”

“We’ll…figure it out, love. Do you remember when we ran out of funds to pay a tab at…whatever the name of that tavern in the West was, and the owner threatened to kill us? We figured out a way to make money fast and escaped with all limbs attached.”

However, he didn’t need to look dangerous because always near him was the woman who he’d been travelling with for quite some time, someone who looked more accustomed to fighting on the fields than watching him play at a tavern.

While that did mean that they drew various glances around town, Alexander always took to the attention quickly, flitting around and giggling and strumming his lute while his traveling companion did the opposite.

Isabella played with knives while Alex played the lute. When pressed she would say she traveled with Alex out of convenience but truthfully she had grown quite fond of the bard. She could never bring herself to admit it out loud but she felt a duty to protect Alex.

The day they met Isabella tried to swindle Alex out of some coin he had made playing in a tavern. Not only had he thwarted her but he had demanded she show him the sleight of hand she had used. From that moment she had felt the stirrings in her heart of a great friendship.

“Am I next, are you going to rip me apart before another hunter finds you covered in my blood and kills you, drives a dagger into your chest?”

However, he didn’t need to look dangerous because always near him was the woman who he’d been travelling with for quite some time, someone who looked more accustomed to fighting on the fields than watching him play at a tavern.

While that did mean that they drew various glances around town, Alexander always took to the attention quickly, flitting around and giggling and strumming his lute while his traveling companion did the opposite.

Isabella played with knives while Alex played the lute. When pressed she would say she traveled with Alex out of convenience but truthfully she had grown quite fond of the bard. She could never bring herself to admit it out loud but she felt a duty to protect Alex.

The day they met Isabella tried to swindle Alex out of some coin he had made playing in a tavern. Not only had he thwarted her but he had demanded she show him the sleight of hand she had used. From that moment she had felt the stirrings in her heart of a great friendship.

"Do not move," he instructed him. "Or I will kill her."

His fangs glinted in the low light but they did not leave his lips. He whispered something into Bella's ear.

As soon as he did, her eyes shot open. What once were pale and crisp irises had turned yellow and hazy. They locked onto Alex immediately. Bella's chest rose and fell heavily as she leapt from the floor and lunged for Alex. Sharp fangs dug deep into Alex's skin as she attached herself by the mouth to his arm, her own clawing around his body, and started drinking. She had always been strong but her strength was otherworldly now.

His hands shook, and he felt himself growing weaker, as he grasped the back of Bella’s neck in the same way one would a wild animal. As his free hand tightened around the back, and her grip likely involuntarily loosened, Alexander scrambled back and drew out his small dagger.

As he stared into his Bella’s sickly tinged eyes, no more did he speak courteously, instead hissing out a, “what in the fucking depths of hell did you do to her?”

Still wielding his dagger protectively against his now rabid companion, he added that given the chance, he would behead Alberto “in an instant.”

Alberto snapped his fingers and Bella's body dropped like a bag of flour. She stared up at Alex with tired eyes. She did not look as if she could hear him.

Then, not even aware that she probably couldn’t hear him, Alexander rushed to Isabella’s side, dropping to his knees. Pressing his sweaty forehead against hers, he whispered, “I won’t leave you, no matter what” before pulling away and looking into her eyes. When he spoke to Alberto, it was still with his eyes trained on Isabella.

“What do you want in exchange, for us to leave this place, I’ll pay any price, any at all.”

Further emboldened by the sight of his companion laying there, motionless for the first time he’d ever known her, Alexander turned to face the vampire. Refusal written across his face, he shook his head before rushing to kneel down in front of Isabella for the second time.

As he struggled to hoist her up, trying to remember how he’d carry bags of flour on his family’s farm all those years ago, he managed to huff out a, “I’m leaving…we’re leaving. I won’t be a musician to a…an empty castle owned by a goddamn tyrant.”

It was obvious that as soon as said that, anger was replaced with fear, but Alexander stood his ground. Not even stopping to pick up his lute, something that would tear at his heart later, he began trying to drag Isabella’s body past Alberto and into the main hallway of the desecrated castle.

"By all means," he said, his voice booming. "Take her out into the sun. End her life."

Isabella shoved herself out of Alex's arms and toppled to the floor. "What's going on?" she murmured feverishly. She was beginning to wake up properly.

Alberto's footsteps echoed down the corridor as he caught up to them. "You will not leave this place alive!" he shouted.

Isabella's eyes widened. She grabbed at the knife still in the side of her boot. "Run, Alex," she murmured, before she lunged toward the vampire.

The struggled that ensued took them back down the hall. Isabella's new strength served her well even when she didn't quite know what to do with it. Alberto fell over his own heels back onto the carpet before the fireplace. "Insolent girl!" he shouted. "For all the trouble you bring, he's hardly worth it!" "You will not touch him!" Bella shouted back as she leapt onto his chest and plunged the knife deep into his heart.

Although it was dainty, he thanked the heavens for the pendant swinging from it, a sharp dagger like object; knowing he wouldn’t make it back to Isabella in time, he murmured a prayer and tossed it in her direction.

Then, he set about unlocking the door that Alberto shoved closed, cursing the days he spent lounging around instead of working out; when he finally got it open, he turned around to view the scene in front of him.

Bella gritted her teeth and doubled down again. With one arm, she held Alberto against the floor. With the other, she used the pendant to practically melt a hole in his chest. Alberto went thrashing and hissing all the way until his body fell still and he made no more noise.

Every other time before, it had been a means of completing a contract, a mindless swipe of a blade or punch; however, there was a fury on his companion’s face like no other when she was melting Alberto away.

When he had finally composed himself, Alexander slowly walked over to his seated companion and sat down next to her. Drawing gauze and creams out of his bag, he began silently working on Isabella’s hand, ignoring how it was already healing in front of him.

However, he didn’t need to look dangerous because always near him was the woman who he’d been travelling with for quite some time, someone who looked more accustomed to fighting on the fields than watching him play at a tavern.

While that did mean that they drew various glances around town, Alexander always took to the attention quickly, flitting around and giggling and strumming his lute while his traveling companion did the opposite.

Isabella played with knives while Alex played the lute. When pressed she would say she traveled with Alex out of convenience but truthfully she had grown quite fond of the bard. She could never bring herself to admit it out loud but she felt a duty to protect Alex.

The day they met Isabella tried to swindle Alex out of some coin he had made playing in a tavern. Not only had he thwarted her but he had demanded she show him the sleight of hand she had used. From that moment she had felt the stirrings in her heart of a great friendship.

"Do not move," he instructed him. "Or I will kill her."

His fangs glinted in the low light but they did not leave his lips. He whispered something into Bella's ear.

As soon as he did, her eyes shot open. What once were pale and crisp irises had turned yellow and hazy. They locked onto Alex immediately. Bella's chest rose and fell heavily as she leapt from the floor and lunged for Alex. Sharp fangs dug deep into Alex's skin as she attached herself by the mouth to his arm, her own clawing around his body, and started drinking. She had always been strong but her strength was otherworldly now.

His hands shook, and he felt himself growing weaker, as he grasped the back of Bella’s neck in the same way one would a wild animal. As his free hand tightened around the back, and her grip likely involuntarily loosened, Alexander scrambled back and drew out his small dagger.

As he stared into his Bella’s sickly tinged eyes, no more did he speak courteously, instead hissing out a, “what in the fucking depths of hell did you do to her?”

Still wielding his dagger protectively against his now rabid companion, he added that given the chance, he would behead Alberto “in an instant.”

Alberto snapped his fingers and Bella's body dropped like a bag of flour. She stared up at Alex with tired eyes. She did not look as if she could hear him.

Then, not even aware that she probably couldn’t hear him, Alexander rushed to Isabella’s side, dropping to his knees. Pressing his sweaty forehead against hers, he whispered, “I won’t leave you, no matter what” before pulling away and looking into her eyes. When he spoke to Alberto, it was still with his eyes trained on Isabella.

“What do you want in exchange, for us to leave this place, I’ll pay any price, any at all.”

Further emboldened by the sight of his companion laying there, motionless for the first time he’d ever known her, Alexander turned to face the vampire. Refusal written across his face, he shook his head before rushing to kneel down in front of Isabella for the second time.

As he struggled to hoist her up, trying to remember how he’d carry bags of flour on his family’s farm all those years ago, he managed to huff out a, “I’m leaving…we’re leaving. I won’t be a musician to a…an empty castle owned by a goddamn tyrant.”

It was obvious that as soon as said that, anger was replaced with fear, but Alexander stood his ground. Not even stopping to pick up his lute, something that would tear at his heart later, he began trying to drag Isabella’s body past Alberto and into the main hallway of the desecrated castle.

"By all means," he said, his voice booming. "Take her out into the sun. End her life."

Isabella shoved herself out of Alex's arms and toppled to the floor. "What's going on?" she murmured feverishly. She was beginning to wake up properly.

Alberto's footsteps echoed down the corridor as he caught up to them. "You will not leave this place alive!" he shouted.

Isabella's eyes widened. She grabbed at the knife still in the side of her boot. "Run, Alex," she murmured, before she lunged toward the vampire.

The struggled that ensued took them back down the hall. Isabella's new strength served her well even when she didn't quite know what to do with it. Alberto fell over his own heels back onto the carpet before the fireplace. "Insolent girl!" he shouted. "For all the trouble you bring, he's hardly worth it!" "You will not touch him!" Bella shouted back as she leapt onto his chest and plunged the knife deep into his heart.

Although it was dainty, he thanked the heavens for the pendant swinging from it, a sharp dagger like object; knowing he wouldn’t make it back to Isabella in time, he murmured a prayer and tossed it in her direction.

Then, he set about unlocking the door that Alberto shoved closed, cursing the days he spent lounging around instead of working out; when he finally got it open, he turned around to view the scene in front of him.

Alexander thanked himself that his parents weren’t farmers, they owned the drug store in the sleepy town, but he felt they had as many kids as most. The town was large enough that the kids weren’t forced to all play with each other in some one-room-schoolhouse but small enough that everybody knew the Pine last name.

Furthermore, everyone knew that a new family was moving to town, and the young boy would be damned if he didn’t see them in person. Pushing his way to the front of the crowd around the house, he took note of the ages of the children, already planning to brag to his younger sister that there was a boy his age.

"My parents are a little busy," he stammered. "They'll be more receptive to visitors soon. My little sister, she's just a baby, isn't adjusting well to the move. I don't know how she even knows things are different but she does."

Stefan glanced over at Colin.

Her household was clearly one of hand me downs and borrowing supplies, but in a sentimental way rather than a signifier of not having much. As she sat down, she shook her head at Colin, advising him to, “stop spending so much time at the library! Be outside more, like your brother.”

His brother was crinkling his nose at Shuonun not far off with a, “you have a baby in your house? That’s gross. By the way, babies don’t come out of your stomach, I saw something on TV about it, but my sisters made me turn it off.”

Wiping his mouth on his shirt sleeve, the smaller boy turned to Shuonun, clearly set on asking him yet another question.

“So, were you like born in France? You don’t look very French, your hair’s too blonde, and you don’t have an accent like on TV.”

Wiping his nose on his sleeve, he then got up from the table and carried both dishes to the sink, weaving around the other kids in the room. When he sat down again near Colin, it still wasn’t known how much they’d both change over the years. For now, Alexander was a tornado that couldn’t be stopped and Colin and arid savannah in danger of ignition at the slightest heat wave.

However, he didn’t need to look dangerous because always near him was the woman who he’d been travelling with for quite some time, someone who looked more accustomed to fighting on the fields than watching him play at a tavern.

While that did mean that they drew various glances around town, Alexander always took to the attention quickly, flitting around and giggling and strumming his lute while his traveling companion did the opposite.

Isabella played with knives while Alex played the lute. When pressed she would say she traveled with Alex out of convenience but truthfully she had grown quite fond of the bard. She could never bring herself to admit it out loud but she felt a duty to protect Alex.

The day they met Isabella tried to swindle Alex out of some coin he had made playing in a tavern. Not only had he thwarted her but he had demanded she show him the sleight of hand she had used. From that moment she had felt the stirrings in her heart of a great friendship.

"Do not move," he instructed him. "Or I will kill her."

His fangs glinted in the low light but they did not leave his lips. He whispered something into Bella's ear.

As soon as he did, her eyes shot open. What once were pale and crisp irises had turned yellow and hazy. They locked onto Alex immediately. Bella's chest rose and fell heavily as she leapt from the floor and lunged for Alex. Sharp fangs dug deep into Alex's skin as she attached herself by the mouth to his arm, her own clawing around his body, and started drinking. She had always been strong but her strength was otherworldly now.

His hands shook, and he felt himself growing weaker, as he grasped the back of Bella’s neck in the same way one would a wild animal. As his free hand tightened around the back, and her grip likely involuntarily loosened, Alexander scrambled back and drew out his small dagger.

As he stared into his Bella’s sickly tinged eyes, no more did he speak courteously, instead hissing out a, “what in the fucking depths of hell did you do to her?”

Still wielding his dagger protectively against his now rabid companion, he added that given the chance, he would behead Alberto “in an instant.”

Alberto snapped his fingers and Bella's body dropped like a bag of flour. She stared up at Alex with tired eyes. She did not look as if she could hear him.

Then, not even aware that she probably couldn’t hear him, Alexander rushed to Isabella’s side, dropping to his knees. Pressing his sweaty forehead against hers, he whispered, “I won’t leave you, no matter what” before pulling away and looking into her eyes. When he spoke to Alberto, it was still with his eyes trained on Isabella.

“What do you want in exchange, for us to leave this place, I’ll pay any price, any at all.”

Further emboldened by the sight of his companion laying there, motionless for the first time he’d ever known her, Alexander turned to face the vampire. Refusal written across his face, he shook his head before rushing to kneel down in front of Isabella for the second time.

As he struggled to hoist her up, trying to remember how he’d carry bags of flour on his family’s farm all those years ago, he managed to huff out a, “I’m leaving…we’re leaving. I won’t be a musician to a…an empty castle owned by a goddamn tyrant.”

It was obvious that as soon as said that, anger was replaced with fear, but Alexander stood his ground. Not even stopping to pick up his lute, something that would tear at his heart later, he began trying to drag Isabella’s body past Alberto and into the main hallway of the desecrated castle.

He wouldn’t go as far to say that it was a calling-those claims were reserved for those who bragged about their successful takedowns. Instead, the assassin thought of it as a job, one that he simply was good at.

The one he received that morning, with an illustration of his target, didn’t seem out of the ordinary at first. The nearby kingdoms had been suffering from power disputes for months, and it was only time before one royal put out a hit on another.

As Pierre set out-no horse, they were too noisy and he liked to travel light anyways-on the path that would lead him to the prince, all he could think about was when he’d get to eat next rather than the cruel act he’d have to commit for payment.

Isabella was good at her job because she had always been something of a brick wall. Born early with a fragile heart and kept safe like a prisoner in her young years she had learned to make herself strong. Exceeding expectations was her area of expertise. That was how she found herself appointed to the crown prince as a bodyguard.

They did not remain at the castle long after her appointment. They left the very same night, Prince Teddy disguised as a peasant and Isabella disguised as his wife. Teddy was not taking to his role well. He was thick-headed and boisterous and he did not know how to keep his mouth shut.

Isabella was beginning to fear that if his assassin did not find them first, she might kill the prince herself.

It was in that moment that the two hunters actually passed by Alexander and his followers, though neither party noticed each other. Instead, fate would ensnare them all later that evening in a tavern on the other side of the bustling town. For now, the captain set about looking for places to eat, complaining that, “there never seems to be good quality meat around here, and I cannot stand eating fish.”

Bella scoffed. "Neither can you," she said.

Teddy stuck his tongue out like a child.

Noticing how late in the afternoon it already was, Alexander let out a displeased, “hm” before offering the pair dinner at a nearby tavern. It was that same tavern in which Pierre was offering Dario a meal and respite.

Although the other hunter may not have noticed, Pierre took note immediately of his target when he stepped in, green eyes roaming over the crown prince before flitting to his partner. He assumed the woman was the same one Dario continuously cursed, though he didn’t comment on it.

However, he didn’t need to look dangerous because always near him was the woman who he’d been travelling with for quite some time, someone who looked more accustomed to fighting on the fields than watching him play at a tavern.

While that did mean that they drew various glances around town, Alexander always took to the attention quickly, flitting around and giggling and strumming his lute while his traveling companion did the opposite.

Isabella played with knives while Alex played the lute. When pressed she would say she traveled with Alex out of convenience but truthfully she had grown quite fond of the bard. She could never bring herself to admit it out loud but she felt a duty to protect Alex.

The day they met Isabella tried to swindle Alex out of some coin he had made playing in a tavern. Not only had he thwarted her but he had demanded she show him the sleight of hand she had used. From that moment she had felt the stirrings in her heart of a great friendship.

"Do not move," he instructed him. "Or I will kill her."

His fangs glinted in the low light but they did not leave his lips. He whispered something into Bella's ear.

As soon as he did, her eyes shot open. What once were pale and crisp irises had turned yellow and hazy. They locked onto Alex immediately. Bella's chest rose and fell heavily as she leapt from the floor and lunged for Alex. Sharp fangs dug deep into Alex's skin as she attached herself by the mouth to his arm, her own clawing around his body, and started drinking. She had always been strong but her strength was otherworldly now.

His hands shook, and he felt himself growing weaker, as he grasped the back of Bella’s neck in the same way one would a wild animal. As his free hand tightened around the back, and her grip likely involuntarily loosened, Alexander scrambled back and drew out his small dagger.

As he stared into his Bella’s sickly tinged eyes, no more did he speak courteously, instead hissing out a, “what in the fucking depths of hell did you do to her?”

Still wielding his dagger protectively against his now rabid companion, he added that given the chance, he would behead Alberto “in an instant.”

Alberto snapped his fingers and Bella's body dropped like a bag of flour. She stared up at Alex with tired eyes. She did not look as if she could hear him.

Then, not even aware that she probably couldn’t hear him, Alexander rushed to Isabella’s side, dropping to his knees. Pressing his sweaty forehead against hers, he whispered, “I won’t leave you, no matter what” before pulling away and looking into her eyes. When he spoke to Alberto, it was still with his eyes trained on Isabella.

“What do you want in exchange, for us to leave this place, I’ll pay any price, any at all.”