A rewrite of The Hunters: Destiny Rising. By LJ. SMITH.
LJ.SMITH created Klaus.
A stand alone monster.
No family.
No redeeming qualities.
"I'm one of the Old Ones! An Original! Do you know what that means? I've never died. Every one of you has di...
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Andrea's long brunette hair danced in the night breeze as she moved through the dense forest of Mystic Falls, her slender body weaving through the trees with the ease of a creature born to the shadows. The moon's silvery light painted her form in an ethereal glow, casting elongated shadows that danced with the rustling leaves. Her hazel eyes, with their golden rings, searched the darkness with an intensity that suggested she could see through the very fabric of the night itself. They were the eyes of a hunter, eyes that had stared down the abyss and found something to bring back from the edge.
Her wide, full lips parted slightly, revealing the gleaming points of her wolf fangs. The smile that played upon them was not one of happiness but rather the grim amusement of a being who had seen the futility of human endeavors play out over and over again. Yet, for all her ancient power and beauty, there was a vulnerability to her that made her seem almost human. Perhaps it was the way she tilted her head when listening, or the softness in her gaze when she looked upon those she considered kin. Her laugh was a rare and precious thing, a sound that could warm the coldest heart and bring a spark of joy to even the most jaded soul.
The scent of the night air was rich and pungent in her nose, a symphony of aromas that told her the story of the woods around her. Each rustle of leaves and snap of a twig was a note in the music of the hunt, she danced to its rhythm with the grace of a creature who had lived in these shadows for a thousand lifetimes. Her heart raced, not from fear but from the thrill of the chase. The thrill of the hunt was in her very essence, a part of her as intrinsic as the moon that called to her on nights like these.
Andrea's long brunette hair swished like a living thing as she moved, a dark river of secrets that had flowed through the annals of time. The leaves whispered as they brushed against her, sharing secrets of the forest that only the truly attuned could hear. Her slender body was a weapon, each muscle honed by fifteen centuries of combat and survival, wrapped in skin as smooth and unblemished as bronze marble. Yet, it was her eyes that truly captivated, hazel almond shaped spheres with golden rings that held the weight of untold stories. They searched the night with a focus that could unravel the very fabric of darkness, seeking the prey that she had been tracking for hours.
