Vampires Realm Prophecy 01 - Child of Light

her feeling of nausea worsen. Valentine lashed out at the werewolf, leaving deep gashes across its chest where his claws had made contact. The werewolf sneered at him, growling low in its throat as it leapt backwards, placing some distance between it and Valentine.
    She couldn’t move as the two pounced on each other again. Their actions were raw and primal, not measured or executed with skill. They both slashed and hacked with their claws, not giving the other an inch as they attempted to defend themselves while attacking. There was no room between them and as they moved into a darker area of the square, they seemed to merge into one. Fur flew as they clashed, their growls filling the night air. She couldn’t tell who was winning.
    A loud roar filled her ears and instinct drove her to run out into the square. She hadn’t needed to be able to see them to know that Valentine was hurt. When she reached them, she saw the werewolf hunched over Valentine with its teeth sunk deep into his shoulder.
    She leapt onto its back, grappling with it as she tried to get an arm around its neck and drag it off him. When it released Valentine, she struggled to get her hands on its jaw. It tried to get her off its back, its teeth gnashing as it attempted to bite her hands.
    She slipped into vampire guise and dug her claws deep into the flesh under its jaw and the side of its head. She tried to summon the strength to kill the beast as it shook, trying to shift her while she clung on tightly. It wouldn’t come.
    A low moan caught her attention.
    She didn’t need to summon any strength. When she saw Valentine lying on the ground with one hand pressed to his shoulder and smelled the blood on him, she roared.
    Twisting the werewolf’s head, she smiled in satisfaction when she heard the bones in its neck crunch. It fell to the floor with her still on its back. She sprang off, her face shifting back into her human guise while she ran over to Valentine.
    She pressed her hand to his where he held his shoulder and then withdrew it, frowning at the sticky, dark blood that coated her fingers. He removed his hand to inspect the damage and fear clenched her heart.
    The wound was bad. There were deep, ragged teeth marks in his left shoulder and the whole of his shirt on that side was wet with blood and saliva. It looked as though the werewolf had been chewing him.
    “I must taste good.” He pressed his hand back to his shoulder and grimaced.
    She looked from him to the werewolf. The woman had changed back now. She was lying naked on the floor with her blonde hair caked with blood and deep scratches marking her pale flesh. Crimson stained her lips and chin.
    Prophecy realised that the werewolf had been drinking his blood in an attempt to weaken him.
    “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hesitated. I should have fought beside you from the beginning, then you wouldn’t be hurt,” she said. Her brows furrowed into a worried look and she touched his shoulder again.
    “It is not you fault.” He pushed himself up onto his feet, his left arm dangling limp at his side. He stretched and gritted his teeth, his fingers clutching tightly at his shoulder.
    “We should get that patched up.” She pointed to the wound. She wanted to tend to it, not only to alleviate her guilt, but because she needed him strong if they were going to make it through this. The battles that lay ahead of them were only going to get harder. They both had to be strong.
    She followed him over to the bench where he’d placed his jacket and helped him slip it on over his good arm. He winced and sucked a sharp breath in through his teeth when she placed it over his injured shoulder and she gave him an apologetic look.
    His eyes met hers and she didn’t bother hiding her concern. She ignored his weak protests as she manoeuvred herself under his good arm, letting it rest heavily on her shoulders and supporting his weight. Taking a deep breath, she started walking with him back to their hotel.
    * * * *
    Prophecy settled Valentine on the edge of his bed and gently pushed the jacket off his bad shoulder before slipping it down his good arm. He looked pale. His skin was white and sickly and he kept swallowing, evidently trying to keep control of the pain. She waited for him to push her away but he didn’t. He just looked at her and she in turn stared at him.
    His eyes moved to rest on the wound and hers followed suit.
    There was blood everywhere. The sharp metallic smell of it tainted