Chapter 8 First Hunt

I didn't feel like going to school.

Not after what I felt when I kissed Aiden's neck. It wasn't just attraction-it was something deeper. Sharper. A hunger I'd never known before.

If I hadn't stopped myself, I would've gone further.

And it wouldn't have just been about a kiss.

It would've been about blood.

The thought unsettled me. Not because I was afraid of what I could've done-but because a part of me wanted to.

I stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to breathe through it. Trying to feel normal.

But normal was slipping. Whatever was changing in me, it wasn't slowing down. And Aiden was a huge part of it.

I finally threw the blanket off and swung my legs over the side of the bed. The apartment was cold and quiet-it always was.

I went into the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and stared at myself in the mirror.

My pupils looked wrong-too wide. My skin wasn't the normal pale, it looked sickly. There was a tension curled inside me that I couldn't shake.

I stepped out of my room and followed the faint sound of a page turning.

Mom was in the kitchen, perched at the counter with a book in one hand and a glass in the other. Thick, dark liquid swirled lazily inside. Her eyes lifted when she heard me.

"Morning," she said, though morning didn't mean much to us.

I nodded and moved to the fridge. The cold air hit my face as I scanned the shelves-just blood bags, stacked neatly.

"I haven't done a grocery run for you yet, hon," she added without looking up.

I closed the fridge with a soft click. My stomach tightened-not from craving pancakes or juice this time.

She looked up, her gaze sharp. "You don't look good, Noah."

Before I could brush it off, she stood and crossed the room, gently tilting my chin up with her fingers. Her eyes scanned my face, slow and knowing.

"You need to feed," she said quietly. "And I don't mean pasta or Coke. I mean really feed."

I pulled away, just enough to break the contact. "I'm fine. I got until eighteen anyways."

"You're not. Your eyes are dull, and your pulse is off. I can hear it from here."

"I said I'm fine."

Her look deepened. "You've been holding back. I told you, when the urges start, you need to tell me."

I looked away. Aiden's face flashed in my mind. The pulse in his neck. The heat under my lips.

"You've never fed, Noah. Not even a drop. That's not strength, that's dangerous." She held my shoulders with both hands.

"You turn eighteen in three months; animal blood will hold you until then; it's better than starving yourself."

I crossed my arms. "I'm not drinking from some deer in the woods."

"Then what? Starve until the transition? Wait until the thirst breaks you?" Her voice wasn't angry, just tired. "That's not how this works. You don't get to choose not to be what you are."

"I've made it this far."

She shook her head slowly. "Barely. And now it's starting to show."

I didn't reply. I couldn't. Because she was right. I could feel it every time I got close to Aiden-and I wasn't sure how much longer I could resist it.

I headed for the door, Mom didn't stop me. She just sighed and went back to her book.

The moment I stepped outside, the air was crisp, brushing against my skin like a quiet warning.

The streets were quiet.

I took the long route toward nowhere, hands in my pockets, eyes scanning the empty sidewalk. I didn't know where I was going-but I just walked.

Eventually, I came across a small coffee shop tucked between a dusty bookstore and a tattoo parlor.

A chalkboard sign out front read something cheesy about espresso and second chances.

I paused.

It wasn't blood, but it was something.

The bell over the door gave a soft chime as I stepped in. Warmth wrapped around me instantly-coffee, sugar, and the faintest trace of human pulse. Not loud enough to be dangerous.

And immediately, I felt him before I saw him.

My gaze followed the pull of instinct.

He sat near the window, a black hat casting a shadow over his face.

It was The Regent.

"New school, and already skipping," he said, voice calm but amused.

I didn't answer.

"Isn't it a little early to be tired of high school?" he added. "Especially for a vampire who's going to repeat it more times than they can count."

My eyes widened-he'd said it loud enough for others to hear.

He caught my reaction and scoffed lightly. "Relax. Everyone here is one of us. You'd know that if you were fully transitioned."

I let out a quiet breath and slid into the seat across from him.

"This your place?" I asked, glancing around the cozy shop.

He nodded. "Yeah. Vampires only really drink three things, blood, alcohol, and coffee. I figured I'd give them a place to enjoy at least one of those in peace. And talk."

We both chuckled at that, in easy sync.

Then he removed his hat, his tone shifting. "That hunger you're feeling? The obsession? It's normal before your first feed," he said, eyes steady. "But dangerous. Especially when it's directed at a human."

I wasn't even surprised that he could read me so easily. After all, he was Sebastian's father.

He stood, slipping his hat back on with practiced ease. "Come with me," he requested in a calm voice. "I'll show you something."

I hesitated, just for a second, then followed.

We stepped out together and strolled till we were off the main path that even led there.

We reached a narrow trail cutting behind the buildings-quiet, tucked away, and shadowed by tall trees. That's when he turned to me, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

"We race from here."

I barely had time to process the words before he took off, vanishing in a blur of motion.

For a second, I just stood there, stunned by the sheer speed of him. Then instinct kicked in.

I ran.

The trees whipped past as I pushed myself harder, faster than I'd ever moved before-faster than any one human could. My feet barely touched the ground. The wind tore at me. Still, I couldn't see him.

He was far ahead.

It didn't feel like just a race. It felt like a reminder-of how new I was, how weak I still was as a vampire.

When I finally caught up, he was already waiting-leaning against a tree like he hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Not bad," he remarked.

I tried not to show how breathless I was. "You put all the young ones through this?"

He grinned. "Only the promising ones."

"Is this another way to the House of Silence?" I examined.

We were deep in the woods now-surrounded by nothing but bushes and towering trees.

He stopped walking.

"It's not," he replied. "You need something first. This is the best spot to find rabbits and deer."

I stared at him, not sure I liked where it was going.

"You brought me out here to hunt?"

His expression softened, but his voice stayed firm.

"You don't have to like where it's going. But if you don't settle yourself with blood soon, you could lose control."

I swallowed hard. "Isn't there another way?"

A rustle in the bush made me flinch. He turned toward it, eyes narrowing.

"Let your instincts kick in. Trust me, once it starts, your body will know what to do," he said, stepping back to let me stand on my own.

"Go on. Close your eyes. Listen," he coaxed.

I did.

For the first time, I heard the forest in layers-the heartbeat of a deer, the rustle of something small, life pulsing all around me.

My breath hitched. Something in me shifted.

The hunt had begun.