Rose O'Hara sat curled up in James' study, her delicate hands clenched around the smooth wooden stock of a shotgun. Though her lips had turned pale from fear, she remained steadfast, resisting the urge to peer out the window where the distant sounds of chaos echoed through the estate. The chilling cries, inhuman shrieks, and the occasional thundering crash told her all she needed to know—something monstrous was happening outside.
But she was no helpless girl.
Growing up in the manor had given her more freedom than most young women of her age. James had always encouraged her independence, allowing her to accompany him on hunts, teaching her how to ride and shoot with an ease that defied her gentle appearance. While many would be frozen with terror in such a moment, O'Hara's hands moved swiftly, checking the chamber, ensuring the shells were properly loaded.
She had no intention of dying without a fight.
Her pulse hammered in her ears as she pressed her back against the bookshelf, the secret door to the basement barely a step away. If things went south, she had an escape route.
Then—
BOOM!
The study's window shattered, shards of glass raining down in a deadly cascade as a figure crashed through.
The intruder hit the floor hard, a grotesque and disheveled figure, covered in dirt and something darker—thick, coagulating black blood. His face was gaunt and sickly pale, his sunken eyes tinged with the crimson glow of a predator in distress.
Marcus.
His breaths came in ragged gasps, and for the first time in his wretched existence, the vampire felt true fear.
He scrambled to his feet, only to freeze when he saw her.
A young woman, standing tall despite the tremor in her limbs. Her green eyes—so full of defiance—locked onto him as she raised the shotgun.
Marcus barely had time to react before—
BOOM! BOOM!
The blasts rocked the small study, the recoil forcing O'Hara back a step as the buckshot tore into Marcus' chest. He staggered, a gurgling hiss escaping his throat, his skin blistering where the pellets had struck. But his monstrous resilience was greater than any human's—within seconds, he bared his fangs and lunged.
Faster than she expected.
Faster than she could fire again.
Before she could react, the entire wall exploded inward.
A force like a cannon shell tore through the stone and wood, sending debris flying in all directions. The impact slammed into Marcus, knocking him off his feet and pinning him beneath a pile of rubble.
Dust filled the air.
Then, stepping through the wreckage, his broad shoulders casting a dark shadow against the firelight—James Howlett.
His keen eyes scanned the room, immediately locking onto O'Hara. Relief flickered across his face when he saw she was unharmed. Then his gaze dropped to Marcus, now barely clinging to consciousness under the debris.
James stepped forward, raising his hand.
Marcus tried to crawl out, but before he could—James' palm came down.
A low, sickening sound filled the air. A terrible, crushing force pressed into Marcus' body, a power far beyond human comprehension. The vampire's bones snapped like brittle twigs, his limbs contorting unnaturally, his organs rupturing beneath the invisible weight of James' dark energy.
Marcus opened his mouth to scream, but only blackened blood gurgled forth.
It was over.
---
Late Night Reflections
Hours later, the flames crackled softly in the grand fireplace of James' bedroom. O'Hara sat curled up on the edge of an armchair, her small frame swallowed by one of James' heavy coats.
He sat beside her, silent, his mind replaying the night's events.
"You were very brave," he finally said, his voice quiet.
O'Hara sniffed, rubbing her nose with the back of her sleeve. "I was terrified."
"You didn't let it stop you."
She turned her head up to look at him, her expression softening. "You're amazing, James. I mean… really amazing."
James chuckled, shaking his head. "I should've taken care of them sooner. I shouldn't have let any of them reach the manor."
Victor leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching them with an amused smirk.
"Sentimental as always, little brother."
O'Hara shot him a glare but said nothing.
James ignored him. "Did you secure the gates?"
Victor shrugged. "Do I look like a gatekeeper to you? But yeah. Nothing's getting in… or out."
He tilted his head toward O'Hara. "You know, for a girl, she's got some bite. Not bad with a gun, either. Didn't even scream."
O'Hara rolled her eyes. "If you don't have anything useful to say, Victor, you can go."
Victor laughed and pushed off the wall. "Suit yourself." With that, he strode off down the hall, his heavy steps fading into the night.
James sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Get some rest, O'Hara. It's over for now."
She hesitated, then leaned her head against his shoulder, murmuring softly, "Thank you… for coming."
James only nodded.
But in the back of his mind, he knew—this was far from over.
---
Elsewhere… A New Threat Rises
The town of Helena had once been a quiet place, but the recent gold rush had turned it into a lawless frontier. Cowboys, miners, gamblers, and criminals filled the streets, drawn by the promise of wealth.
And among them, predators lurked.
Inside the grandest hotel in town, a man reclined lazily in a velvet chair, swirling a goblet of deep red liquid in his pale hand. His sharp, angular features bore an eerie beauty, and his piercing golden eyes gleamed in the dim candlelight.
Adam.
The eldest of his kind.
His fingers drummed idly against the armrest as he listened to the nervous whisper of his underlings.
"They've been gone for three days, my lord," one of them said cautiously. "Marcus and his men… they never returned."
A slow, knowing smile curled Adam's lips.
"Ah… so it seems Valdoma wasn't lying after all."
A woman, lounging on a nearby chaise, scoffed. "You actually believe there's a human capable of defeating our kind?"
Adam's eyes gleamed. "Not human," he murmured. "Something else. Something… like us."
For the first time in centuries, Adam felt a flicker of something he had long forgotten.
Excitement.
He rose to his feet, his movements fluid and unnervingly graceful. "Gather the others. We return to Cedar Mountain immediately."
The gathered vampires bowed in unison.
"Shall we deal with the Howlett?"
Adam's smile deepened.
"Oh, not yet," he mused. "Let's see how long he can survive."
Outside, the wind howled.
A storm was coming.
---
Howlett Manor: The Training Begins
Deep within the underground palace beneath Howlett Manor, James stood alone in the dimly lit practice chamber. The air was thick with the scent of earth and stone, the silence only broken by the deep, rhythmic hum of a massive iron shot put spinning in his hands.
The sphere, over 1,500 kilograms, roared as it whirled through the air, infused with a delicate balance of power and precision.
James moved effortlessly—his every step calculated, his control absolute.
Then, with a single blow—
CLANG!
The shot put came to an abrupt halt, frozen in place.
James exhaled.
The real fight was yet to come.