The numerous guards that she procured nearly sent her father to have a heart attack. Verra Constantine stood beside her limousine with a wide grin plastered on her face. If her father insists on her attending the conference, whether she agrees to it or not, then she must find a way to make herself feel secured, and what better way to do that, other than hiring an entire army to watch over her.

“Verra, every guests is only allowed to have a maximum of ten guards, what the hell is this?” her father asked whilst spreading his arms on both sides.

Verra glanced around and smiled as the thirty men, each, armed with a riffle, stared back at her.

“Well, you’re sending me to a place where I feel unsafe and could be harmed any minute. It’s only fair that I make myself as safe as possible.” She answered smugly.

“They will never allow this Verra, so give it up,” her father retorted, while signalling the thirty men in front of him to disburse.

“You can’t do this dad!” Verra yelled—stomping her foot on the ground as she did so, a thousand times when she was a kid. “I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions!” she added while pouting her lip like that of a child.

Oliver can only answer with a chuckle, his daughter preached about being an adult, yet her actions is that of a child. “When you finally learn to see things clearly, only then will I allow you to decide without my interference,” he answered, as he opened the door to his daughter’s limousine.

“I hate you” Verra scoffed.

“I know,” her father answered while she took a seat inside the vehicle.

“Now go, and try to act humane!” Oliver yelled.

(A few kilometres from Blue Ridge Mountain.)

The hotel had never been so busy. The manager, Arthur Gosling spent the night before with his nose buried under a mountain of paper works. He never wanted to host the annual event, hell—he will pay or give out his entire fortune to not host the event.

In the past twenty years, the meeting is more like a battle field between humans and werewolves, each, ready to rip each other’s throats. The peace which the annual conference symbolise no longer exists. Its as if, the conference is only held to uphold a tradition, not to follow the rules and the foundation that is its roots.

“Manager? Some of the guests have arrived,” came a soft voice from the door of his office. Arthur looked up, he fixed his eyeglasses that is now falling off the bridge of his nose and stood from his chair. “Alright, instruct the bellboys to line up in front of the hotel, and remember, no sudden movements when the wolves arrive,” he commanded. “Move with caution, and keep your mouths shut,” he added, before they left the confines of his office.

Verra stepped out of the car which picked her and her entourage up, an hour ago from the airport. The Blue Ridge Hotel is famous for its magnificent architecture. Out of all the hotels that accepted both humans and werewolves alike as guests, it is by-far the most cautious one. The hotel was designed to have hallways and rooms that will allow humans and werewolves to freely roam and experience the luxury of the place without bumping unto each other.

After standing in front of the hotel for a full minute, a young man came rushing towards her, he seems nervous. She can tell, by how his eyes moved from one person to another. His hands too are shaking. Verra saw right through him, he is like her.

“Purely humans,” she whispered, before gifting the young man with a sweet smile.

The face before her suddenly lit up. Verra almost gave herself a pat on the shoulder, she was right. He is scared.

She held out her hand to the young man, who seems to be happy holding hands with her—and began walking towards the hotel’s entrance. She looked back at her companions to make sure that none of them are slacking off, but as she did so—she saw something behind the molave tree, ten meters from where she stood. It is a black wolf.

Now, Verra fears the werewolves, but knowing that those creatures left their original form a long time ago, the animal standing behind the tree did not pose any threat to her safety, so she smiled at it.

It was a fleeting moment, but, did the animal frown at her? Are wolves even capable of doing so? The werewolves yes, but the animal? The unintelligent creature who unluckily remained in their primitive form, frowned?

I must be feeling tired, Verra thought to herself.

She pried her gaze away from the animal and yelled at her men to move closer to her.

The group of men bobbed their head and immediately ran to her side. Verra smiled as the security she never want to lose enveloped her entire being, she took a deep breath, then headed inside the hotel.

How long has it been since he left the confines of the mountain where she left him? How many years had passed since he watched how the victims of that faithful night turned into something more complex than what he is?

He cannot remember, he had lived for hundreds of years unable to die or age. He kept silent and watched in the side-lines. He remained unfazed, even when the war broke between the things he created and the humans whom she loved. He lost the will to care, a long time ago. But an hour earlier, he caught a familiar scent in the air, one that he can never forget. Despite the tears and years wearing him out, her scent is something that he will always remember.

Her scent which has been the foundation of their relationship, a sweet smell that mimicked that of a freshly bloomed rose. It drove him crazy, it made his heart pound. The scent was so strong, it felt like a parade of hooves are stomping on his chest, creating a rhythm that not only fried the veins of his heart but also sent the wires of his brain to shoot an electrical pulse all over his body. He shook, and the dormant desire inside of him—a feeling which had long been forgotten, slowly came to life.

So, for the second time—after hundreds of years in total isolation, he descended from the mountain and followed where the scent came from.

A woman, much to his dismay—carrying the same face as his beloved arrived in front of the grand Hotel. He kept his gaze on her, hiding behind a large tree. He never meant to stare, but his presence was felt, by her!

He was astounded when she spotted him from across the road. How could she have felt him? Not even the creatures that sprung from the one’s he had bitten showed any sign of knowing his presence—but the woman did? 

She smiled at him, how dare she use the same smile his beloved used to wear! She not only took her face and scent, she also robbed his beloved’s smile, and what did she mean by purely humans? Did she not like his creation?

He cannot allow such an existence to remain in this world. She is an abomination! One that must not exist.