After a few days, Jason woke to find himself in his own room. His entire chest was bandaged and aching fiercely.
He tried to move, but his body refused to cooperate. Glancing down at his left arm, he found a mop of long, brown hair resting against the bedside, using his hand as a pillow. Under normal circumstances, any other man might have been more than pleased to wake up beside a beautiful woman. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case for him. He despised this woman with a passion.
While others only saw her physical allure—her long brown hair, delicate, flawless skin, voluptuous curves, warm brown eyes, and soft pink lips—Jason saw right through it. He recognized the insidious, obsessive nature hidden beneath the surface, a side of her everyone else was entirely blind to. He couldn't deny that she was attractive, but he felt zero romantic inclination toward her.
With an annoyed groan, he forcefully yanked his hand from under her head, applying far more momentum than necessary. The sudden movement stirred her, and she slowly fluttered her eyes open, blinking up to find him staring at her with his trademark cold, dead-eyed gaze.
"You're awake!" she gasped, scrambling up and throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.
"Anita, please get off of me," he said, shoving her away.
The girl—Anita—gazed back at him with a strange, unsettling light in her eyes. To anyone else, it might have passed for affection, but it was far from love. It was raw, unadulterated lust. Ever since they had first crossed paths years ago, she had looked at him with that exact predatory hunger.
"Why are you here?" Jason demanded, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
"You shouldn't be moving! You were hurt really badly," she fretted, hovering anxiously. "After you got back, your father went to meet you and find out what happened, but you suddenly passed out. When he looked closer, he saw the gaping hole in your chest. They said if it had been even an inch closer to your left side, it would have pierced your heart," she rambled, sounding genuinely terrified.
"When did I ask for a recap? It happened to me. I experienced it firsthand; I know what occurred," Jason cut her off, towering over her. "What I asked was, why are you here?"
"I was ordered to stand watch by your father," she answered, pressing herself against his chest despite his glare. "He said I had to make sure you were okay and that no one tried anything. You know... due to the ongoing rebellion and all."
"I see," he muttered, forcefully shoving her back once more. "I am growing tired of telling you to keep your hands to yourself and stay out of my way."
Without another word, he strode past her and out of the room, leaving her staring longingly at his retreating back.
"Soon, my love," Anita whispered to herself, the lust in her eyes darkening into something feral. "Soon, you'll be mine."
As Jason walked down the dim corridors, his mind raced, picking apart the lingering loose ends of the ambush.
Why did so many hunters show up when they did? It should have just been the few stationed at the camp. And why was that vampire princess there? She didn't look as though she expected us... so what actually happened?
After a few minutes of walking, he reached a heavy set of stairs leading down into the subterranean levels of the compound. Descending into the gloom, he came face to face with a reinforced, medium-sized door. He pushed it open, and his eyes instantly locked onto another pair—the terrified, bloodshot eyes of a captive man chained to the stone wall. Judging by his filthy appearance and the stench of decay, the prisoner had been down here for a very long time.
The captive's eyes widened in sheer horror the moment he recognized Jason, looking as though he had just seen a ghost. Seeing that immediate reaction, Jason knew his suspicions were correct, but he wanted to hear the confession straight from the traitor's mouth.
Stepping directly into the prisoner's space, Jason locked eyes with him. The captive trembled, drowning in pure, unadulterated terror, while Jason's expression hardened into that of a predator cornering its prey.
"You told us the camp was only supposed to hold a small reconnaissance detail," Jason began, his voice dangerously low. "But when we arrived, we walked straight into an army of hunters surrounding the perimeter. It was as if they were expecting us."
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," the man stammered, frantically darting his eyes away.
He didn't get a chance to say another word. His breath hitched as a fist slammed violently into his gut. He was almost thankful it was just a fist and not Jason's razor-sharp claws, or his midsection would have been torn clean through.
"You really take me for a fool, don't you?" Jason snarled. "First, you feed us intel that no one would make contact with our territory for over a month—or at worst, a stray patrol of five or fewer. Relying on that, I led a strike team of eleven. When we got there, the camp was already a graveyard, decimated by two vampires. I put down the male, but the female was the princess herself. We fought... and right when I was about to finish her, your people descended on us. Almost like they had a schedule to keep."
With every word, Jason's fist drove deeper into the captive's stomach, squeezing the breath from his lungs.
"Tell me... what was our deal?" Jason whispered coldly.
"I... I give you information... in exchange for my life," the man wheezed, gasping for air.
"Then why on earth were your people waiting to ambush us?!" Jason roared, grabbing the top of the prisoner's head and forcing him to look up.
"I didn't know they'd move in early, I swear! Please, I beg you—no more, not like last time!" the captive sobbed.
Jason didn't believe a word of it. Without missing a beat, he traded his fist for a single index finger, its talon-like nail pressing precisely against the man's skin, drawing a thin line of crimson that dripped down onto the stone floor.
"The truth. Or you die here."
"Okay, okay! The camp was a trap!" the man cried out, cringing away from the lethal point. "It wasn't a training camp. It was a staging ground for an ambush! We planted men to get captured so they could feed your scouts false interrogation intel—this exact location, this exact timetable. We hoped to wipe out a chunk of your pack... or the vampires."
"There," the man sobbed, wincing as the nail pressed slightly deeper. "I told you everything! Please, no more. Let me go!"
"Thank you for the cooperation," Jason said flatly, his face completely devoid of emotion. "Unfortunately, you won't be leaving here alive."
Just as Jason drew back his hand to sever the man's head, the captive shrieked in panic. "Wait! I know why that wound on your chest isn't healing!"
Jason paused, his hand hovering mere inches from the man's throat.
"When I was training as a hunter, I had to study the deep lore of our enemies," the captive blurted out frantically, keeping his eyes locked on Jason's hand. "I found an ancient manuscript called the Book of Time. It cataloged things we thought were impossible: the Alpha above Alphas, the Supreme Empress, ways to kill immortals, and... how to strip an immortal of their immortality."
The prisoner swallowed hard, reading the intense focus in Jason's eyes. "Every page held secrets about your kind that defied belief. For instance, both vampires and werewolves share a vital connection to the moon. On a 'no-moon' night, you lose your powers, your regeneration, your strength, and your shifting abilities. But that's a rare phenomenon, happening once a century."
The man paused, grimacing in pain. "Then I found something else. Something stranger. The text claimed that if an immortal falls deeply in love, they become temporarily mortal—vulnerable to permanent death—unless they properly claim their mate."
"Shut up. What does this have to do with me?" Jason snapped, annoyed by the rambling.
"Don't you see?!" the captive laughed hysterically, blood pooling at his lip. "A dark moon isn't due for ages, and other traditional weaknesses are out of reach. That leaves only one explanation for why you're bleeding out. You're in love. And not with just anyone—you're in love with the one who carved that hole in your chest. You've fallen for Count Dracula's daughter!"
Jason scoffed, letting out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. "A cute fairy tale. You almost had me going for a second."
"Laugh all you want! You know it's the truth!" the captive shot back defensively. "How else do you explain why your regenerative healing has completely stalled?"
"My recovery has nothing to do with nursery rhymes," Jason growled, stepping forward once more, his talons extending. "Instead of feeding me garbage, you should have figured out how to pick a better lock."
"Fairy tale or not, why else does your own father possess a copy of the Book of Time?" the man gasped, his eyes rolling back as blood loss caught up to him. "He knows everything written in it is coming to pass. And soon, both vampires and werewolves will—"
Before the captive could finish his warning, his world went entirely black. Growling in irritation, Jason ended the man's misery in a single swift motion, sending his head rolling across the stone floor as a fountain of dark blood soaked the chamber.
"It was mildly entertaining," Jason muttered, wiping his hand clean before turning to leave. "But you were starting to repeat yourself."
A few minutes later, Jason sought out his father to brief him on the intel. As he approached his father's private study, he noticed the heavy oak doors were ajar. Several of the pack's senior advisors were inside, deep in conversation. Knowing how much the advisors despised him, Jason was about to turn away, preferring to avoid their bureaucratic lectures, when a specific sentence caught his ear and froze him in his tracks.
"Are you absolutely certain?" his father's voice echoed from within.
"Yes," one of the advisors replied gravely. "When has any prophecy within the Book of Time ever failed to manifest?"
"If the Supreme Empress's time has truly come, that means the era of the Alpha above Alphas is upon us as well," another advisor noted nervously.
"If those blood-sucking fiends catch wind of this, they will launch a total war of extermination against us," the first advisor warned. "If we don't locate our true Alpha beforehand, we are finished."
Hearing enough, Jason shoved the doors open and stepped into the room, instantly drawing every eye toward him.
"Leave at once, you insolent whelp! This is a confidential council meeting!" one of the senior advisors barked, glaring at him.
"Go rot," Jason replied flatly, refusing to even look in the man's direction.
His father broke away from the table, stepping forward with a relieved expression. "Jason! You're finally awake."
"So it seems, Father," Jason said, ignoring the glaring advisors. "Which is why I'm here. I came to report that I encountered the vampire princess face-to-face. And frankly, she's a handful."
"I am already aware of the situation; Anita gave me a full report," his father interrupted, waving a hand dismissively.
"There! Now that your trivial update is delivered, get out," an advisor snapped, eager to banish him.
"Unfortunately, that wasn't the only reason I came," Jason pressed on, his tone hardening. "I interrogated our prisoner down in the cells before I killed him. He confessed that the hunter camp was a coordinated trap, and he dropped mentions of an ancient text called the Book of Time. I thought you should know."
At the mention of the forbidden text, the color drained slightly from his father's face. Without a word to his advisors, the elder alpha turned abruptly toward the door.
"I don't care what petty squabbles you have with the rebels," his father commanded the room over his shoulder. "If the hunters have gotten their hands on the secrets of the Book of Time, we don't have the luxury of fighting ourselves. We have both hunters and vampires closing in."
"What about the prophecy of the Supreme Empress and the Alpha above Alphas?" an advisor called out frantically.
"I am assigning that task to Jason," his father stated firmly, pausing at the threshold. "I have no doubt he will handle it."
"Are you entirely out of your mind?!" the advisor protested. "Entrusting something of that magnitude to him? He barely respects the pack's authority as it is!"
"I don't care about your grievances against my son," his father replied coldly. "Whatever needs to be done, he will get it done without hesitation."
With that final word, his father walked out of the room, leaving Jason standing amidst a roomful of sputtering, disgruntled elders.