The forest floor thundered beneath Annabella's paws, her wolf, Ania, in full control. The familiar scent of damp earth and pine usually brought freedom, but today, a strange, sweet aroma cut through the air, stirring her vampire side.

Then, another scent hit her, sharp and metallic: blood. A lot of it.

Ania howled in distress, a raw, primal sound, as Annabella sped through the trees. They burst into a clearing, and the sight brought her to an immediate, jarring halt. A man, torn and beaten, lay in a pool of his own blood, two tall, lanky figures standing over him. Vampires. Royal guards, by their attire and glowing red eyes.

Her rage ignited. "Woah there! You should leave, Beautiful. Pretty girls like yourself shouldn't be seeing this," one of the vampires sneered, his gaze raking over her naked, shifted form. The other echoed his misogynistic sentiments.

Annabella's lips curled into a predatory grin, her fangs extending. They had messed with the wrong bitch.