Gemini of the Shifter Realm

Chapter 2 The Anti-Dracula

Valentine Winters P.O.V

I stirred awake, instinctively reaching out to the other side of the bed, only to find it empty. Confused, I sat up, blinking in the darkness. I grabbed my phone from the table, squinting as the screen's sudden brightness cut through the dim room. It was just after five in the morning.

Where could he be at this hour?

My eyes darted to the open window, and I caught a faint whiff of his scent, carried in by the cool night air. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, slipping out of the covers, and padded toward the window. The breeze ruffled my hair as I peered outside, the familiar pull of his scent drawing me into the night.

Carefully, I climbed out of the window, landing softly on the damp ground below. I followed the trail into the woods, my heart pounding in my chest with a mix of worry and curiosity. The scent was unmistakably his, but as I moved deeper into the forest, it began to change, mingling with something darker—something metallic.

Blood.

I broke into a run, panic tightening in my chest. Branches whipped past me, and the cold air stung my lungs. When I finally reached a small clearing, I froze, my breath hitching in my throat.

Lucifer was crouched on the ground, his back to me. His shoulders were hunched over something, and I could hear the sickening sounds of him feeding.

"Lucifer?" I whispered, my voice trembling as I reached out, gently placing my hand on his shoulder.

He went rigid at my touch, the tension in his body palpable. Slowly, he rose to his feet and turned to face me. His fangs were bared, his mouth stained with blood. In his hands, he held the lifeless body of a rabbit, its white fur matted with crimson.

I felt a mix of shock and heartbreak as I looked at him. He looked down, embarrassed, and quickly tossed the rabbit aside, clenching his fists.

"I can't control it," he confessed, his voice raw with frustration. "I can't control my desire for blood."

I watched him, my heart aching. "Lorraine was supposed to train me," he continued, his voice barely a whisper. "And she's still missing."

I took a tentative step closer, but he raised a hand to stop me. "Don't," he said, his voice breaking. "I'm a monster. An abomination."

Ignoring his words, I took his hand in mine, intertwining our fingers. He looked at me, surprised by my touch.

"Come with me," I said softly, guiding him through the trees to the waterfall near our packhouse. The moonlight shimmered on the water's surface, casting a soft glow around us.

"Sit," I instructed gently, pointing to a flat rock by the water's edge.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You don't get to order me around."

"Just sit," I repeated, my voice firm but kind. Reluctantly, he complied.

I knelt beside him, carefully pulling his blood-stained shirt over his head. His skin was cold under my touch, and I could feel the tension coiled in his muscles. I dipped a clean section of the shirt into the cool water and began to gently wipe the blood from his face.

"I can do it myself," he murmured, his voice edged with frustration.

I shook my head, handing him the damp shirt. "No, let me help you."

He took the shirt and began to clean himself, his movements slow and deliberate. "Do you... do this often?" I asked quietly, sitting down beside him.

He nodded. "Yes."