Predator vs Predator

The years blurred like watercolours, decades passing in what felt like the blink of an eye to Eydis. As the world transformed around her into a kaleidoscope of progress and destruction, she found herself adrift, untethered once more. Humanity's metallic ambition stained the air, a taste that had long since lost its thrill for her. 

What was the point of endless life when even life's essence felt dulled by the relentless march of time?

Yet through it all, a promise - an anchor in the storm - bound Eydis to existence. It was a vow she clung to with the last threads of her resolve, a tattered tapestry of purpose woven through eternity.

A promise… to Athena.

The icy wind whipped Eydis's blonde hair into a frenzy as she leaned against the balcony railing. Below, students huddled deeper into their coats, their chatter a dull murmur against the howling gale. A crisp, primal scent – pine needles and damp earth – swirled around her, hinting at the untamed wilderness beyond the academy walls. Slender arms snaked around her waist – a predator, familiar and dangerous.

"Report," Eydis demanded, not bothering to turn around.

Orion feigned disappointment. "Straight to business as always, my…Princess," she teased, her voice dropping to a whisper that brushed against Eydis's ear, "You know my lips are sealed unless, of course, yours pry them open first."

Eydis's smirk was a weapon as she finally pivoted, her gaze locking with Orion's emerald eyes. The other woman's breath hitched for a moment. Eydis leaned closer, their faces mere inches apart. "That depends entirely on the quality of the information, wouldn't you agree, General?" Amusement glinted in Eydis's eyes. "Tell me," she drawled, "do we have a traitor amongst us?"

Orion sighed dramatically, a playful glint in her eyes nonetheless. "Indeed. It seems Lord Lukas Schmidt has developed a peculiar fondness for sharing your whereabouts with Prince Adrian."

Eydis raised an eyebrow. "Well then, that settles it perfectly. Promote him to my shadow."

Orion's surprise was a comical mask. "Your aide? But-"

Eydis's grin widened, a touch too sharp. "Think of it as an experiment, Orion," she purred, her voice laced with a dangerous undercurrent. "Now, enough talk of shadows. Unless, of course," she murmured, nudging Orion back towards the bed, "you'd prefer sweet Lukas to join us for this little… debriefing."

Orion inhaled sharply, a blush creeping up her sun-kissed skin. Her usually sharp retort died on her tongue, replaced by a breathless gasp as Eydis pressed even closer.

In a voice barely above a murmur, Eydis spoke directly into Orion's ear, sending shivers down her spine. "Looks like you have a new role to play, Orion. Consider yourself Amelia Kruger for the foreseeable future."

Eydis watched the kaleidoscope of emotions flicker across Orion's face – surprise, confusion, a flicker of something… hopeful? It was a familiar dance, yet a sliver of unease gnawed at Eydis' gut. The sight of genuine affection, even fleeting, always left a bitter taste in her mouth. 

Love, for Eydis, was a vulnerability she couldn't afford. It was a weapon that could be used against her, a weakness she'd tasted before, leaving a scar across her soul.

"Remember, Orion," Eydis warned. "This charade serves a purpose, but genuine affection… it's a vulnerability we can't afford." " A flicker of sorrow, raw and unexpected, danced in her icy gaze. "The door is always open, if this… charade becomes too much for you."

Orion managed a shaky nod, her eyes glistening with unspoken emotions. A wave of unexpected guilt washed over Eydis. Reaching out, her fingers brushed the cool silk of the blindfold, a phantom touch against a truth she couldn't bear.

Here she thought Orion was different from Theo. But they were two sides of the same coin. Both craved her approval, both offered a twisted form of devotion. It felt like a noose tightening around Eydis's throat. She craved connection, a flicker of genuine warmth in the cold emptiness of her existence. Yet, this… this constant performance, the weight of unrequited affection, was a slow, agonising strangulation.

It had to end. She belonged to no one. Freedom, anonymity, was the last fragile thread tethering her to a forgotten humanity.

But fate, Eydis mused with a bitter smile, possessed a cruel sense of humour.

*****

Astra walked into her life. A vibrant splash of colour in Eydis's world, dulled by years of self-imposed isolation. Not a grand entrance, but a quiet confidence that stole the air from the room. A single glance, and an unfamiliar disquiet, a wildfire erupting in Eydis's gut, threatened to consume her composure. Even Theo, ever attuned to her emotions, seemed to react, his grip tightening possessively on her hand.

"Astra." The name, a whisper on her lips, held a hint of something more. This young woman, with an ethereal beauty that rivalled moonlight, possessed a hidden power. Beneath the surface, a predator lurked. The way she moved – a controlled savagery, an apex predator disguised in deceptive grace.

A predator recognizing a predator. 

The Queen, ever the master of disguise, played the unassuming card. A wolf in sheep's clothing. A game, perhaps, a web of calculated charm. Playful touches, seductive lies – a dance on a knife's edge.

But who was she fooling? Eydis knew she didn't need this elaborate charade with this captivating enigma. With a flick of her wrist, she could end it all. End Astra, end this anomaly in her immortal existence.

Yet, in that moonlit alley, she hesitated. Astra, oblivious beneath the gasmask, and Eydis, already intoxicated by the hunter's unique scent – their first clash was a dance unlike any other. 

A flicker of morbid curiosity, a question lingered – could Astra be the harbinger of her demise? The thought, a twisted comfort in the relentless monotony of immortality. 

Perhaps, a welcome end. Anything to escape this charade, this pale imitation of a life.

*****

The cafeteria encounter unfolded with a scowling yet strangely compelled Astra enduring Eydis' teasing. The human's frustration, a flicker of something more, was… intriguing.

"Honestly, Princess," Astra scowled, a hint of amusement crinkling the corner of her lips despite herself. "Don't you undead have, you know, more regal things to do than stalk… prey in the student union?"

Eydis, a mischievous glint in her eyes, speared an oyster and with a playful plop, deposited it in Astra's mouth. "Public cafeteria, love. Open season on all delicacies, especially the ones that scowl so adorably."

Astra, cheeks burning a charming pink, sputtered around the unexpected bite. "Adorable? I'd hardly call being force-fed questionable mollusks adorable, Princess."

Eydis feigned offense, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Force-fed? It's called expanding your culinary horizons, darling. Besides, a little shellfish never hurt anyone… except maybe your pride."

Astra jabbed her fork playfully at Eydis. "Funny coming from a vampire princess who probably has a personal chef and yet still loiters around here."

Eydis' grin widened, a flash of fang catching the afternoon light. "Observing people," she drawled, a hint of something deeper in her golden gaze, "is a rather fascinating pastime, wouldn't you agree?"

Astra flinched subtly, a flicker of ingrained disgust battling with a spark of… curiosity in her crimson eyes. Then, with a defiant lift of her chin, she met Eydis's gaze head-on. "Then why only me?"

Eydis blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Was that a hint of… something more than annoyance in Astra's voice? "Can a girl not appreciate the finer things in life?" she countered, leaning in with a touch of amusement. "Like captivating company, even if perpetually adorned with a scowl."

Astra's eyes widened a fraction, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her gaze before she scoffed. "Right, because an infuriating vampire princess is exactly who every human dreams of having lunch with."

"Oh, I wouldn't call myself infuriating," Eydis countered, leaning in conspiratorially. "More like… intensely curious. And trust me, darling, you're far more fascinating than the average cafeteria dweller."

The heat in Astra's cheeks deepened. Silence stretched for a beat, a charged tension replacing their playful banter. Astra appeared to desperately try to change the topic. Her gaze landed on the untouched oysters on Eydis's plate. With a resigned sigh, she mumbled, "Those… any chance you're not, you know, a huge fan?"

Eydis, surprised by the shift in the conversation, tilted her head. "Do you even like them?"

"Food is fuel," Astra mumbled, her cheeks burning even brighter. "Besides, an open mind is a good thing, they say." She stabbed an oyster with her fork, a defiant glint in her eyes.

A genuine smile tugged at Eydis's lips. This enigmatic hunter, Astra, was fascinating. An invisible thread seemed to pull Eydis's hand towards Astra's. The hunter's breath hitched as their fingers brushed. But instead of the expected anger, a flicker of… disappointment flitted across Astra's face.

Eydis's smile softened, the amusement warmer this time. "Relax, Astra," she purred, "consider them yours. But…" She reached for the hot sauce, a playful glint in her golden eyes. "Let's see just how open-minded you truly are."

Astra's face mirrored the crimson sauce as she popped the oyster into her mouth. Her eyes, though watering slightly, held a spark of defiance as she chewed and… swallowed. 

A surprised laugh, laced with something more complex than amusement, bubbled up from Eydis's chest. A sound foreign, yet strangely exhilarating.

How utterly captivating Astra was. And utterly confusing. The predator in Eydis craved the thrill of the hunt, the dance of predator and prey. Yet, a new, unsettling hunger gnawed at her. A hunger for something she couldn't quite grasp, a yearning that defied logic.

But then, a wrenching contradiction. A memory flickered – Astra, with a shy smile, reaching out to touch Amelia's hand. Amelia, who was, in truth, Orion in disguise. Logic, cold and clear, dictated that Astra's every interaction with Amelia was a meticulously crafted act, a mission to find the Queen of the Damned.

And yet, a primal possessiveness, a monstrous serpent coiling around her heart. The sight of Astra's affection, even a carefully constructed one, directed at another, sent a jolt of… jealousy? 

The truth, a bitter epiphany, dawned on Eydis. It wasn't the woman nor the monster that Astra despised. It was the very essence of Eydis, the core of her being, that repelled the hunter. The serpent's grip tightened, a physical manifestation of the self-loathing churning within her.

This foreign feeling, this confusing yearning, had to stop. It threatened to unravel the meticulously crafted walls she'd built around herself. And for the first time, Eydis felt a terrifying sense of loss – a loss of control, a vulnerability she hadn't experienced in a long time.