Lie to Me (1)

A cold wind howled across the desolate plains. Theo raced on, fueled by a desperate plan and a heart heavy with betrayal. The moon, a pale sliver in the inky sky, cast long, skeletal shadows that danced alongside him, mocking his haste.

Memories flickered through his mind. Eydis, her eyes once sparkling with the thrill of adventure, now held an emptiness that mirrored the wasteland around him.

Symbiosis. That's what she called their bond. He provided the blood, the life force, and she… tamed the monster in him. But where was the Eydis he fell in love with? Now, she was a shell, her eyes dull with a profound boredom.

A horrifying image flashed in his mind – Eydis snapping a shapeshifter's neck with ease, licking the blood from her hand with an unnerving casualness.

"Leaving is an option," she said.

"But... was it necessary?" Theo choked out, a tremor of fear lacing his voice.

Eydis grinned. "Perhaps not. But then again..." she shrugged, a cold glint in her golden eyes, "accidents happen."

He reached the outskirts of the werewolf village, a cluster of brick houses nestled beneath the skeletal branches of ancient oaks. Theo pounded on the door of the largest house with urgency.

A gruff voice rumbled from within. "Who dares disturb the peace?"

"I'm… a werewolf," he gasped, his voice hoarse from exertion. "There's no time. The Queen... she's coming for you!"

The door creaked open, revealing a hulking werewolf with fur the colour of aged oak and eyes glowing with suspicion. Claws scraped against the rough wood as the werewolf leaned in, sniffing the air.

"You reek of vampire scent. A werewolf serving a vampire? Convenient," he sneered. "Saves us the trouble."

A wave of nausea washed over Theo. "What... trouble?"

The werewolf chieftain's eyes narrowed. Before Theo could react, a massive claw slammed into his chest. A sickening crack echoed through the room as Theo's ribs gave way. Blood welled in his throat, and a strangled gasp escaped his lips.

"Uprising," the chieftain sneered. "We'll burn every last bloodsucker to a crisp. Even the shapeshifters are with us now. Your precious Queen? A mindless monster, a slave to her bloodlust." He scoffed. "You think I fear her? I have an army."

On cue, light flooded the room, revealing a sea of snarling faces. A chorus of growls erupted, a symphony of hatred. The chieftain shoved Theo aside, his crumpled form landing on the hard floor.

"You would attack your own?!" His voice ripped through the guttural growls, raw with betrayal. "What about the Wolf Pact? The bond we swore to uphold?"

The chieftain let out a booming laugh, a cruel sound devoid of humour. "War, pup! It's us or them! Kindness to your enemy is a weakness you can't afford!"

His words whipped at Theo like a razor. Every instinct within him screamed for peace, for reason. But the glint of steel in the werewolves' eyes spoke a different language.

With a deafening roar, the chieftain transformed, claws glinting under the moon's watchful gaze. He was no ordinary soldier. He was a leader, a formidable warrior, and now, Theo's most dangerous adversary.

Adrenaline surged through Theo's veins. The betrayal, the rage, the primal fear – it all coalesced into a roaring fire within him. He wouldn't go down without a fight. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest, a sound that mirrored the approaching beast.

His own transformation was a blur, bones twisting and rearranging as fur erupted across his skin. When the dust settled, a towering monstrosity stood in Theo's place, fangs bared in a silent challenge.

The chieftain faltered, eyes widening in a flicker of fear. "Y-you're… the Silver Moon Wolf?" His voice, once filled with bravado, now trembled with a hint of terror. But it was fleeting. Fear wouldn't save him.

With a battle cry that shook the very foundation of the room, the werewolf pack surged forward. Their hunger for Theo's blood, for the power they believed resided within him, eclipsed any lingering fear. 

High atop a mountain peak, Eydis watched the scene unfold with a detached amusement. Orion, her second-in-command, rested her head on the Queen's shoulder. "Shall we intervene, Your Majesty?"

"No," Eydis replied, a smirk playing on her lips. "I trust him."

Orion chuckled, a sound laced with amusement. "Trust? Remember, your little pet wasn't so loyal after all."

A flicker of something sharp passed through Eydis's gaze. "Precisely. He's proven... too noble for our cause."

"Discarding him then?" Orion sighed theatrically. "A shame. Those muscles were rather impressive."

Eydis's voice turned dangerously low. "Don't tell me you..."

Before she could finish, Orion's form shimmered. Her emerald eyes flared gold, her slender frame rippling with unseen power. In a blink, she stood as tall as Eydis, her previously flowing green hair now dark waves framing a face hardened with predatory hunger. A hint of fang peeked out from behind her lips.

Gone was the mischievous advisor, replaced by a creature mirroring the Queen's own predatory grace.

"Let's just say," Orion purred, her voice a low growl, "his affections might have been misplaced, my Queen. I simply showed him a lie he desperately wishes to see."

A sharp gasp cut through the air. Theo, battered but defiant, stumbled into Eydis's embrace. "Why didn't you warn me they were planning an attack?" 

Eydis stroked his silver hair gently, her voice a soothing murmur. "Some lessons are best learned in blood."

Theo chuckled weakly, leaning into her touch. "A brutal lesson, indeed. But why the theatrics, Your Majesty?"

Eydis met his gaze, her golden eyes unreadable. "Perhaps to test your resolve."

Vulnerability flickered across Theo's face. "Were you trying to push me away?" he rasped, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. "I'm sorry I doubted you. It's just..." He faltered, the years of betrayal leaving him hesitant to trust again.

But something in Eydis's gaze, a flicker of warmth that sent a spark of hope through him, gave him the courage to continue. "I know," she said, her voice softer than he'd ever heard. 

Years blurred into one another as Theo followed Eydis, the complexities of her machinations slowly unravelling. He realised her every action, every word, held a hidden purpose, delivered with a precision that rivalled her deadly combat skills. It was both terrifying and undeniably intriguing.

Then, one day, she did something completely out of character.

Eydis refused his blood, succumbing to a raw hunger that nearly jeopardised their fragile alliance. Something had shifted within her, but Theo couldn't grasp what. He clung to the denial, refusing to acknowledge the subtle warmth returning to her eyes – a warmth that wasn't for him.

"Little help, Theo," Eydis's voice jolted him. He rushed to her side, finding her hand burned.

"What happened?" he demanded, a raw edge to his voice that betrayed his simmering panic. "An enemy?"

Eydis offered a humourless chuckle. "Coffee, believe it or not. Maybe mortality clings to me more than I care to admit." Her gaze darted away.

A lie. Theo knew her too well. He'd witnessed her lightning reflexes for years. He unbuttoned his shirt, offering himself as a willing sacrifice. As her fangs sank into him, a familiar pang of longing echoed in his chest.

The real change came the night Eydis returned, reeking of a foreign scent – alcohol. She never drank. Not a single drop in their decade together.

He settled her onto the bed, his fingers brushing against the cascade of her brown locks. He missed seeing this carefree side of her. A mumbled phrase drifted from her lips, "Anyone would do, wouldn't it?" The words laced with a hint of bitterness he couldn't decipher.

"Eydis?" he rasped, concern etching lines on his face. "What troubles you?"

Her eyes fluttered open, a smile blooming on her face - a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Unlike some," she said cryptically, cupping his cheeks with a surprising strength.

A bittersweet ache settled in Theo's chest as he cradled her hand against his cheek. The alcohol, a rare indulgence, had clearly loosened her inhibitions. He both yearned for this vulnerability and feared what secrets it might reveal.

The truth slammed into him with the clash of swords. His gaze ripped to Eydis, locked in a duel with the human girl, Astra. But this wasn't the Eydis he knew. Her eyes burned with a feral intensity he hadn't witnessed in years. A flicker of amusement, genuine and unnerving, danced in them each time Astra, with surprising skill, deflected her blows. Eydis held back, toying with the human girl, savouring this unexpected dance that held no place in her grand scheme. It was almost… passionate. 

Theo felt it.

And Orion surely sensed it too - they were but knights on her chessboard. Astra, however, was an anomaly. Why waste precious energy on this fragile human? A sliver of jealousy, sharp and unwelcome, pierced his heart.

Was there any hope for him?

The answer, if there was one, arrived on a wisp of lavender and the familiar touch of her hand on his cheek. He rested his head on Eydis' lap. A faint smile played on her lips, a fleeting echo of amusement quickly replaced by a distant ache in her eyes.

"You seemed...different, Princess," he rasped, the lingering effects of her feeding adding a layer of vulnerability to his voice.

Eydis tilted her head. "Perhaps," she murmured, a hint of something deeper than sadness lingering in her voice.

His hand, a tremor coursing through it, hesitantly reached up. He traced the familiar curve of her jaw, the pad of his thumb brushing away a smear of crimson – his blood, their bond. "As much as I..." the words caught in his throat, a strangled sound escaping his lips. Fear, thick and suffocating, coiled in his chest. "I can't help but feel the smile wasn't meant for me."

A ghost of a smile touched Eydis's lips. "Such perceptiveness, little Lord," she teased, flicking his nose with a finger. "Though perhaps a touch dramatic."

Theo grasped her hand, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat simmering beneath his skin. "I'm a man now, Princess," he said, his voice thick with unspoken desire.

The smile faltered. Her gaze flickered away, the amusement replaced by a deep-seated weariness. "Theo," she sighed, "there's still a part of that boy in you, the one who once dreamt of adventures with the Monkey King."

"But I'm…older than Orion," he countered, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "And you...you've even allowed her to..." he trailed. He knew, with a sickening certainty, that Eydis's flirtatiousness was a carefully crafted performance. Intimacy, true intimacy, seemed to be a territory she fiercely guarded.

"Age is irrelevant," she said softly, her voice laced with melancholy. "Some memories run deeper than any curse."

A sliver of hope pierced through the tangled mess of his emotions. "Then I can wait," he declared, his resolve hardening. "However long it takes for the memories to fade and for you to see me as I am now."

A foreign scent, sharp and unwelcome, sliced through the fragile intimacy. Theo tensed as Eydis's touch on his hair turning cold and distant as she braced herself for the intruder.

The door creaked open a sliver, shattering the fragile intimacy of the moment. A guttural growl escaped Theo's throat, echoing with a similar sound from outside the room. In the doorway stood a slender figure bathed in moonlight. 

Astra stood there, crimson eyes – the colour of fresh blood – burning into him with a predatory intensity. Her hair, dark as moonless night, cascaded down her back. He didn't know the nature of their bond, but the blatant disrespect of interrupting the Queen at this hour hung heavy in the air, a silent challenge.

"Astra..." Eydis breathed, her voice laced with a surprising tenderness.

"Sorry to interrupt...whatever it was," Astra said, her voice clipped and cold. Her eyes, however, burned with a fire that seemed to sear straight through Theo.

Despite her obvious hostility towards him, she remained rooted to the spot. Eydis sighed, a hint of weariness etched on her face. With a hand on her temple, she addressed him in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Leave us, Theo."

A knot of anger tightened in his chest. He let out a low growl, the sound thick with possessiveness and defiance as he rose to his feet.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving him alone in the hallway, the sounds of a hushed conversation filtering through the heavy oak.

He didn't like this human. Not one bit.