Chapter 2 The Crimson Nobility

Anastasia's pulse pounded in her ears.

Not so different? What did he mean?

"Not so different?" She whispered, her voice unsteady. "I am a werewolf. You are a vampire. How could we possibly be the same?"

Valerian stepped closer, his crimson eyes softening as he stooped down beside Anastasia. The coldness she had expected from a vampire wasn't there. Instead, his face held a calm honesty, a quiet gentleness that disarmed her.

With a small, almost hesitant smile, he stretched out his hand-strong, yet surprisingly careful.

"My name is Valerian," he said, his smooth voice carrying both strength and warmth.

Anastasia hesitated. Her heart still raced, but the fear was melting-slowly-under a strange, peaceful conviction. Something deep within her whispered that she could trust him.

She reached out, placing her hand in his.

"I'm Anastasia," she replied, her voice softer than she intended, laced with a sweetness even she noticed.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Yet, in that brief silence, their minds were far from quiet.

Anastasia's thoughts swirled in confusion:

I feel like we're going to be good friends. O, Anastasia! What are you thinking? He's a vampire-a sworn enemy. But... I can't shake this feeling. I can trust him. I know it.

Valerian, on the other hand, found himself lost in a different kind of thought:

She's... the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. And yet, there's something more. With her, I feel free, like I could trust her. It's strange-she's a werewolf. But maybe... maybe not all werewolves are as bad as I was taught.

Their hands still lingered in the handshake-both of them reluctant to let go, yet neither fully understanding why.

In that moment, something unspoken passed between them.

Something that neither of them-not yet-could explain.

Breaking the silence, Valerian cleared his throat.

"I know this might sound... strange," he began, "but it's getting dark, and it wouldn't be safe for you to wander the forest alone. If you like, you could spend the night in my hut."

Anastasia blinked, half-expecting a hidden trap.

Seeing the hesitation in her eyes, Valerian quickly added, "I'll sleep outside-vampires don't feel the cold. You'll be safe inside, I promise. And first thing in the morning, I'll walk you to the entrance of your province."

Anastasia hesitated for a moment longer, weighing her options. But that strange inner voice-the same one that told her to trust him-whispered again.

She nodded. "Alright."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Valerian's lips as he extended his hand once more, helping her to her feet. Together, they made their way down a narrow path, the towering trees arching above them like watchful sentinels.

Nestled at the edge of a clearing stood a small, weathered hut. Its wooden walls were covered in creeping ivy, and the old wood creaked under the night breeze.

But when Valerian pushed open the door, Anastasia gasped.

Inside, the hut was warm and inviting. Shelves lined the walls, filled with old books and glass jars of herbs. A stone fireplace sat at the center, its embers still glowing faintly. A wooden table-polished and well-kept-stood beneath a simple iron chandelier.

"This is... beautiful," Anastasia murmured, tracing her fingers over the smooth surface of the table.

Valerian chuckled softly. "The outside's deceiving, isn't it?"

She smiled, feeling her guard lower just a little more.

"Rest for a while," he told her. "You've been through a lot. I'll make dinner."

"Dinner?" Anastasia raised an eyebrow. "Vampires cook?"

Valerian grinned, a rare warmth in his crimson eyes. "We don't have to. But I learned. Helps when you're not trying to terrify guests."

Anastasia chuckled as she sank into a cushioned chair, her body finally relaxing.

An hour passed before the mouthwatering scent of roasted pork filled the air. Valerian returned, wiping his hands with a cloth.

"Dinner's ready," he said.

They stepped outside beneath the moonlit sky, where Valerian had set out simple wooden plates on a low table. The moon cast a silver glow over the clearing, and the quiet hum of the forest wrapped around them like a soft blanket.

As they ate, the initial awkwardness faded.

Anastasia, curiosity gnawing at her, finally spoke.

"Why did you save me?" she asked, cutting into the pork.

Valerian hesitated for a moment, then answered, his voice calm and sincere.

"Because not all werewolves are my enemies. And besides," he added with a faint smile, "what kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn't? If I see a lady-a damsel in distress-whether she's a werewolf, a vampire, or a human, I can't just refuse to lend a helping hand."

Anastasia found herself smiling, despite everything.

"Chivalrous and a vampire? That's... unexpected."

Valerian chuckled. "I try to be full of surprises."

They shared a quiet moment, the weight of their earlier fears easing under the soft glow of the moon, as the conversation between them slowly deepened.

"Valerian, why do you live here in this little hut all alone?" Anastasia asked, her voice soft, laced with genuine curiosity. "And why did you kill the vampire that was going to kill me?"

Valerian didn't answer immediately. The quiet between them stretched, filled only by the crackle of the fire.

Anastasia's thoughts spilled out before she could stop them. "My heart is telling me to trust you, but I still can't wrap my head around why a vampire would kill another vampire... and why you're so kind, so gentle. I don't feel like I'm in danger around you-even though you're a vampire. And then, last night..." Her voice faltered. The memory of the 25 vampires clawed at her mind, but confusion kept her from speaking of it. "Never mind," she mumbled, looking away.

Valerian's gaze was steady. "Anastasia, I'm going to be completely honest with you. As strange as it sounds, I feel I can trust you-though I barely know you. There's a pure goodness in you that draws me in, making me want to reveal everything."

He leaned forward slightly, the shadows flickering across his sharp features. "But before I do... you need to know something. There's a reason those vampires were after you last night. And it wasn't random."

Anastasia's heart pounded in her chest. "What do you mean?"

Valerian opened his mouth to speak-but then he froze.

A faint rustle echoed from the trees outside.

He rose in a swift, fluid motion, his hand gripping the hilt of the blade resting by the door. His calm demeanor shattered, replaced by sharp focus.

"They found us," he whispered.

Anastasia's blood ran cold. She strained to hear it too-another rustle, this one closer, followed by the unmistakable snap of a twig.

"Stay behind me," Valerian ordered, his voice low but firm.

Before she could respond, the candlelight flickered violently-as if reacting to something unseen.

The door rattled.

Anastasia gasped.

Valerian barely glanced back at her. "They're not going to stop this time."