Page 8 of Her Immortal Protector

"Nowhere to run," a gruff voice calls. I spin to see three armed guards emerging from the trees, guns trained on me.

"Look," I say, raising my hands. "We can talk about this."

The lead guard sneers. "Game's over, 'Ms. Demas.' Or should I say, Aria Kostakis?"

My blood runs cold. They know who I am.

"Step away from the edge," he orders. "Nice and slow."

I glance behind me at the churning sea. It's a long way down, but maybe...

"Don't even think about it," the guard warns, stepping closer.

I take a deep breath, mind racing. Jump, and risk death. Surrender, and face who knows what in that facility. Neither option's great, but I've got to choose.

5

CHRISTOS

Isoar through the night sky, my wings cutting through the cool air. I'm surprised how easily I took to flight when everything else has been difficult, but it feels natural.

The hunt calls to me, a primal urge I can't ignore. My heightened senses pick up every rustle of leaves, every scurry of small creatures below. But it's not enough. I need more.

Then it hits me. A scent so potent, so intoxicating, it makes my head spin. Fear. Adrenaline. Human. My body reacts instantly, every fiber of my being drawn to it like a moth to flame.

But it's not just hunger that propels me forward. It's an underlying pull, something that demands I come.

I dive, following the scent trail. It leads me to a remote part of the island, near a cliff overlooking the sea. As I get closer, I hear voices. Angry shouts. Rapid footsteps.

I land silently in a nearby tree, my eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness. That's when I see her. A woman, cornered by a group of men in dark uniforms. She's breathless, her back against the cliff edge, nowhere to run.

"Give us the evidence, and maybe we'll let you live," one of the men snarls.

The woman's eyes flash with defiance. "Go to hell."

Something stirs inside me. Admiration? Hunger? Both? I can't tell. All I know is that I want her. Not just her blood, but her. Her bravery calls to me in a way I've never experienced before.

The men move closer, their intentions clear. I should leave. This isn't my fight. But I can't. Every instinct screams at me to intervene.

I move without thinking, my body acting on pure instinct. In a blur of motion, I'm among the attackers. My newfound strength and speed are terrifying, even to me.

The first man doesn't even see me coming. I grab him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. His eyes widen in shock and fear. I bare my fangs, sinking them into his neck. The rush of warm blood floods my mouth, and I drink deeply, desperately. His struggles weaken, then cease altogether.

I drop his lifeless body and turn to the others. They're frozen in disbelief, their weapons forgotten in their hands. I snarl, a sound so inhuman it startles even me.

Two of them try to run. It's futile. I'm on them in seconds, my wings propelling me forward with impossible speed. I take them down easily, my hands crushing their windpipes before I feed.

The last man, the one who threatened the woman, stands his ground. He fires his weapon, but I barely feel the impact. The bullets can't penetrate my new, hardened skin.

"What... what are you?" he gasps.

I don't answer. I'm beyond words now, consumed by bloodlust and rage. I lunge at him, my teeth tearing into his flesh. His screams are cut short as I drain him dry.

When it's over, I stand among the bodies, panting. Blood drips from my mouth, staining my shirt. For the first time sincemy transformation, I feel truly satiated. The constant gnawing hunger that's been my companion is finally silent.

But as the red haze of bloodlust fades, horror sets in. I look at my hands, covered in blood. At the lifeless bodies strewn around me. What have I done? I'm a monster. A killer.

I turn slowly, remembering the woman I came to save. She's still there, pressed against the cliff face, her eyes wide with terror. Not of her attackers anymore, but of me.

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