The night belonged to the blood moon.
A crimson haze wrapped around the outskirts of Nether-night, casting an eerie glow over the barren terrain. In its wake, Kazim prowled. He could neither be considered a man, nor an Alpha.
No, he was something unrestrained... something insatiable.
Hunger untamed, fury given life. He was the curse made flesh. Power surged through his body, the kind that could neither be controlled nor contained. His claws ripped through anything that dared cross his path, the world descending into a blur of motion and carnage.
Shroudborns, false-blood Nyx, lesser creatures roaming the outskirts of Nether-night, all were equal prey on this night, their blackened ichor staining the charred earth.
The stench of blood was thick in the air. Black ichor dripped from his claws, his breath ragged, mist curling off his lips in the cold night air. Laying in ruins behind him were the bodies of false-blood Nyx, twisted shadows dissolving to nothing.
But Kazim did not stop. He could not stop.
Chains of reason had snapped ages ago Now, he was ruled by the blood moon. It twisted his senses, sharpening his instincts to one sole, violent purpose.
Kill. Devour. Dominate.
Driven on by the curse, hunger gnawed at his insides, accompanied by a fevered thirst churning through his very bones. He tore through the outskirts with merciless efficiency, his body a blur of dark muscle and pure power, every step a hunter's ease...swift, deadly, relentless.
His claws ripped into the chest of another Nyx-spawn, a gurgling shriek followed, slicing through the silence. He tore out its writhing heart, barely noting the pulsation between his fingers before it disintegrated into nothingness.
Another kill.
Another flash of satisfaction that did nothing to quell the storm raging inside him.
And then...
He caught it.
A scent.
Not of death, not of the wretched false-bloods he had slain. This was something different.
It cut sharply through the carnage, so potent, it overwhelmed the metallic taste of blood and rot. Rich, dark, alluring, unlike anything he had ever encountered. Neither human, nor beast, nor anything he could name.
It was irresistible.
His head shot up, he inhaled deeply and his nostrils flared. His pupils, reduced to slits, dilated as the scent rooted itself in his mind, in his bones, in the very depths of his existence. It called to him, more than hunger, more than rage. It teased him like a whispered secret, a promise of something deeper, something he needed to claim.
It called to him in a way that made his blood churn hotter, a scent so potent that his frenzy stuttered, shifting into something else entirely.
Possession.
Desire.
A snarl ripped from his throat, his body moved before thought could catch up.
Stalking...
Hunting...
His instincts took control. Swifter than shadows, he leapt through the shattered remnants of Nether-night's ruins, his senses tracking the scent with an urgency he could not comprehend.
He got closer, and in response, his pulse thundered in his ears, his fangs ached for purchase and his body burned with something beyond bloodlust, every fiber of his being pulsed with violent anticipation.
Then he saw him.
A figure stood by a dried out stream, head tilted slightly to the sky. The moonlight cast him in an enchanting glow. Tall and wide-shouldered, clad in shadows, but his presence burned like flame against a void.
His features were carved with a hardness that bordered on cruelty, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, lips curled into a sneer that was both knowing and brazen. His hair, as dark as a raven's wing, was rumpled, gracing eyes so crimson, they sparkled like burning rubies in the darkness.
Something about him was both deadly and enthralling..
Right in the midst of the ruined lands, he was encased in the ethereal glow of the blood moon, his stance regal even in solitude. Dark armor clung to his powerful frame, and his gaze swept the land with quiet calculation, as if he sensed the shift in the night, the storm approaching.
Did he sense him coming? Or did he not?
Kazim did not stop to question.
He struck out of the shadows, a force of nature given form. A whirling shadow of ferocious hunger, the world descended into chaos as the stranger barely ducked in time, his smile giving way to killing reflexes. They crashed together in fury enough to shatter stone, the impact jolting through the ruins. Kazim snarled, claws ripping, but the stranger was faster, faster than seemed possible, twisting and sidestepping each killing strike
The stranger twisted mid-air, his strength legendary, his instincts razor-sharp. He slammed a clawed hand against Kazim's chest, using the momentum to flip their positions, but Kazim was faster. He twisted out of the stranger's grip, claws raking across dark armor, leaving glowing fissures in their wake.
The stranger struck back immediately, a sharp slash of dark power slicing through the air. Kazim evaded by inches, feeling the ghost of the attack brush against his skin, but he did not retreat..he did not even consider it.
Something in the stranger's eyes flickered,
Annoyance, curiosity and something else...something darker.
"Who dares..."
Kazim's response was a snarl, too far gone for words, too lost in the haze of blood and the maddening scent that filled his lungs. He forced the stranger backward, their bodies colliding in a clash of raw dominance, fangs snapping inches from flesh, claws scraping against steel.
The stranger countered with brutal efficiency. He feinted left before driving a fist into Kazim's ribs, the force enough to crack bone. But Kazim didn't slow. Building on the momentum, he latched onto his shoulder with a firm grip. A twisted growl tore out of him, half hunger, half something more as he slammed the stranger down, pinning him against the shattered earth.
They were close now, bodies almost touching, breathing mingling. The scent that had enthralled Kazim was overpoweringly close, a heady blend of danger and temptation. His beast recognized it...desired it...hungered for it.
Beneath him, the stranger's chest heaved, eyes wide, magic crackling at his fingertips. Yet, despite the struggle, despite the battle still ongoing between them, there was something else in his gaze.
Something dark. Something intrigued.
The scent between them thickened, a war of instincts neither could fathom. Kazim's snarl faded into heavy breaths, his fangs mere inches from the pulse at the stranger's throat. His body trembled, torn between the urge to rip and the urge to claim.
A smirk was the response to his struggle, the ghost of a challenge curling at the edges of the stranger's lips.
Kazim's grip tightened. His body was fire, his mind was chaotic. The night watched in silence, waiting to see what would break first.
The battle.
Or them.
Their gazes locked in a struggle that was more than blood, greater than dominance. It was primal. Bestial. A conflict of power neither of them could understand.
Kazim loomed over him, pinning him down with clawed hands braced against powerful arms, legs tangled in a vice grip. He bared his teeth, chest heaving, the need to tear, to taste, to claim warring within him.
And beneath him, the stranger, this unknown, dangerously beautiful being...smiled.
Not in fear. Not in anger.
But in something far more maddening.
Interest.
Kazim's world spun.
And then the stranger whispered, voice slow and sultry.
"You're strong."
The words wrapped around Kazim's mind, sinking deep, feeding a hunger that was not just bloodlust. His grip faltered for half a breath, a mistake.
The stranger moved.
With inhuman grace, he twisted free of Kazim's hold, and in the time it took to blink, the currents shifted. Kazim was spun off balance, knocked to the ground on his back with savage accuracy. The stranger loomed over him now, holding him down to the rubble with equal force, crimson eyes burning with something between amusement and curiosity.
Kazim's heart pounded. Not just from rage. Not just from combat.
Something else.
Something dangerous.
The stranger leaned closer, his breath chill on Kazim's neck, and hissed, "Who are you, beast?"
Kazim growled, but it came out more guttural, more primal than he intended.
The blood moon burned above them, a witness to a meeting that should have never happened.
And yet, it had.