Chapter Text
Naturally, Yuna Hollander hadn’t been there when Irina Rozanov birthed her baby. But a couple of decades is always enough to gather the full story of anything, even less if it is such a groundbreaking story. It was like an urban legend at this point: how she had been seduced by Grigori, bitten, and then barely matured as a fledgling before her belly had started to pop with her sire’s child.
It had been unnatural in many ways: vampires were almost dry on their inside, too lifeless for all the biological processes necessary to actually create life, but also no sire had ever dared to even fantasize about doing such a thing to their fledgling. The fledgling process itself was risky enough for a body that was still half-human.
The sire-fledgling bond was all about caring and being cared for, in an almost primal way. The bond manifested in many different forms: sometimes fraternal love, sometimes romantic, but ultimately all sires needed to provide, to care, to fulfill, and to spoil all their fledgling's needs to a point where they could hold them above their own. So then again, a pregnancy was unthinkable for any sire until Grigori Rozanov and his greedy soul.
It was an abomination; Yuna had heard all sorts of stories about how detached he was from her ever since conception. How little he had to fight his instincts in trying to undo the mess. How lonely Irina had been, almost like an experiment.
The worst one was the birth, Irina's death. Not even the fact of being the Hollander leader herself saved Yuna from gut-wrenching feelings after listening to Irina's last minutes. How every witness agreed about the battle in her eyes when she first glanced at her newborn: both unconditional love and guilt and sorrow.
She had barely been able to hold him, for one first and last time, cradled his tiny pale face and looked into his eyes -a blue mirroring her own, shifting back and forth into Grigori’s red.
"I'm sorry, my sweet boy, that it all came to this. I'm sorry mama has to leave you. I chose to live bravely before living long. You shall always be brave."
She died like that, holding her baby until the very end.
Yuna wore full black for the next decades. She would never have said such a thing to the Rozanov leader -he didn’t deserve any type of pity and it wasn’t for him. It was for Irina, whom Yuna had always viewed as human, and her baby, who was forever bound to live cold and cursed: as a vampire and as an orphan.
It would only take the boy being from any other coven for Yuna to offer to take him under her wing. Thousands of years of yearning motherhood gathered under her flesh, begging her to take care of the newborn, to make sure he was as loved as only a mother could love. She loved him only from gossip she heard, from little peeks inside his life, from being her perfect mirror: a momless child and a childless mom.
But then again, he was a Rozanov. It would've taken a war to snatch him from his father's vicious hands. And she was willing, but even then, she believed him cruel enough to repeat the process over again. Yuna wouldn't forgive herself, so she fought her own internal battle to keep her mind far from finding the boy and doing it anyway.
Luckily for her, it had only been a few decades before she got a motive to keep her mind away from the Rozanov baby: her own.
It was her fledgling's idea, David. They met almost two centuries ago. He was a kind farmer from whom she bought all sorts of weird stuff... cow blood, pig blood, chicken blood. He was charming and endearing; she almost considered being selfish for once in an eternity and turning him. But he was too precious for her to do that -too innocent, too full of life.
She tried giving him up several times, but being wrapped in his spiderweb felt like a soft blanket over her. It was destiny's work for his horse to break loose that way, for his head to hit the ground that hard, for his blood to spill all over her land like that. She got there almost unconscious, not even minding the smell of his blood, only bracing herself to watch him die.
Then he raised a hand, barely, and confessed: "I know what you are. I wanted to be with you. Why won't you do it?"
Yuna was strong, but not THAT strong. They spent the next century attached by a beautiful sire-fledgling bond.
One night, when David caught her crying, she had to confess her eternal wish: being a mother. She had lived for far too long, but she still found it scandalous to dare to ask for such an intimate thing from a man who wasn't even her husband yet. Sure, none of them were saints, but still, it felt like too much.
Back then, in their current time, it was in fact scandalous. But David didn't look scandalized. Instead, he sat by her and made her analyze their chances out loud. David was long into his fledgling period, but it was about a century away from completely being over.
He was still a fledgling, still human to a certain level; could it be...?
They got married, as her old-fashioned heart demanded, and started trying just as she heard rumors about Ilya's first fangs coming out.
It was a bumpy road but almost five decades later, when she heard Ilya's aging had stopped, her body finally granted their wish. It was the longest nine months of her many lifetimes, but when she finally held the baby, it felt as if it all happened too fast. As if every decision in her thousand centuries had been leading to this tiny creature in her arms.
It took nothing to remember Irina's last moment. It took a second to mirror her internal battle -unconditional love but guilt and sorrow. Her baby, her precious boy, her eternal dream come true, was breathing. His tiny heart was racing in his chest.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Each heartbeat settled the terrible truth in her mind. Just as she, somehow, was meant to have him, she could also be meant to lose him.
An original cursed and an almost full vampire fledgling bore a full human child. A life too fragile for them to be hopeful to spend eternity together.
It's safe to say two things: one, no other vampire ever dared to replicate the Rozanov-Hollander experiment, their existences being already cursed enough. Two, the little Hollander was far from being taken for granted.
Naturally, Shane was the spoiliest little shit you could guess he was based on his life story.
Not only a long-wished only child, but the only baby a whole coven had held for centuries. His vampire and fledgling uncles and cousins, as they liked to address themselves, were all over him once his mom and dad could endure having him away from their skin for a couple of minutes.
Always watched, nursed or cuddled in someone's embrace, it was only a matter of time for someone to catch his scent, mixed with the sweetness of his youth. He smelled... different from the rest of the coven. Something natural for a human -every single fledgling had their own unique smell before being turned, and they kept it after, of course, but mixed with the coven's.
Being born from two coven members, it seems like a safe bet to say he would've smelled like them, mixed with something human, with his personal smell. But he smelled woody, snowy. Like a frozen forest. Way too icy for someone so warm, for his warm Hollander family. He kind of smelled like he was from the highest and colder lands, like a... none would dare to say it.
Damn, he almost smelled like the Rozanov lands, a place most modern vampires didn’t set feet in. Unlike the Hollanders, who had adapted to the times, the Rozanovs were still considered "uncivilized" even among vampires -they treated humans as a minor species, like sprouts in a fertile yard. They still carried the bad fame of centuries past, when they sired fledglings irresponsibly, leaving a trail of broken, poorly cared-for young vampires in their wake. For Shane to carry their scent felt like a curse.
Shane knew about that, but he briefly cared about it. He was already painfully different from what his family had expected; what would another tiny detail do? He grew up as the only boy fed with food instead of blood, always trying -and failing-to keep up with his youngest cousins, the only kid not allowed to play in the rain (just in case he caught a cold).
His mom and dad were awesome, though. They were the sweetest and most supportive parents anyone could ask for. They've been introducing him to their world of nighttime, blood, and pale faces ever since he can recall. Training him in every subject a coven leader should know: diplomacy, strategy, history lessons, languages, traditions, biology, self-defense, and all sorts of things everyone beat his ass at.
He knew better than to feel like trash about it: all those people had centuries to learn. But knowing he shouldn't be feeling something wasn't always the same as not doing it. Shane wanted to be good -great- for his parents. As a toddler, his favorite bedtime story was hearing about how long his mom had yearned for him and his dad, for this tiny perfect family of theirs.
He couldn't afford to let her down… again. He wouldn't.
It got better as he grew. His training started paying off: he became big, muscular, and strong -the most powerful human the coven had ever seen. He obviously couldn't truly hold back his fledgling cousins in a real fight, but he had progressed enough that Yuna had finally given her permission for him to train alongside them. He was a marvel of human biology, a peak specimen, but to Shane, it wasn't enough.
No matter how many miles he ran or how much weight he lifted, he was still a creature that aged, a creature that needed to sleep, a creature that would eventually die. But that was going to change. Oh, Shane was going to make it change.
His parents wanted him to wait a bit more, to find the perfect sire for him by themselves, to have him in a more mature form -or so they said- but Shane wanted this eternal youth. He wanted his forever to start now.
Oh, Shane had plans for tonight.
Too many red eyes were staring at him, but he wouldn't let them see past his practiced smile, his polite eyes, and his measured gestures. No one could see how he looked for blond hair in the middle of the crowd.
It was a century hunt, in the name of an odd eclipse -some diplomacy day that he would bend to be the day he got bitten. Tonight, he was getting a sire. They had met before, on some other diplomacy day -that one being lamer than a hunt- and Shane had loved the way he didn't feel judged over his human meal. He loved their conversation, the way she answered questions about herself as a normal conversation and not as an interrogation.
So tonight was the night. He had to do way too much begging to be able to attend this party. A traditional hunt night -with a sea of mountains getting lost in the skyline and at least a hundred hungry vampires- was not the ideal place for any human to be. The Hollander son was exactly what they were hunting for: a beating heart pumping blood on and on.
Then again, he was a Hollander. The leader's son; no one would dare to even think of stepping out of line. Yuna had commanded him to stay close either way. As the good boy he always was, he wouldn't be too far. Not until his blond-haired vampire set a foot into the room. Then he'll cross the room and get on one knee -or two, he'll do whatever it takes- and shamelessly ask: "Would you be my sire, Rose?"
Rose Laundry, a sweet blonde vampire, the only vampire his parents would ever approve to be his sire on such short notice. A single, fledglingless, highland vampire; she was perfect. A girl he had met and kissed once, after an event full of blushed cheeks and innocent flirting when his mom wasn’t looking.
And Shane… Well, he felt like a failure -a muscular, handsome, breathing mistake. He wanted his forever to start now, and he had chosen his target. He knew he was using Rose; he could sense she wanted a romantic bond -or that’s what he got from that one desperate kiss- and he was more than willing to trade his heart for a set of fangs. Maybe he didn't feel enamored or at least… aroused by her that much -or at all- but the bond would make up for it. He was hopeful that once he was hers, he would finally fall for her the way she deserved.
During his brief existence, he has heard all sorts of stories about it. Right, most of them had a sparkly look or whatever. Sure, most fledglings had described their first moment with their sires as the moment where everything clicked. But he and Rose clicked, right? She gets him, laughs at his jokes, listens. SHE KISSED HIM THE LAST TIME HE SAW HER, ONLY A YEAR AGO, FOR FUCK'S SAKE.
And she had no original blood; one day, an eternity ago, she had been a fledgling herself to someone too irresponsible to stick around long. She had many friends and allies, but no such thing as a coven... but standing next to Shane's side. He might not be able to give her a romantic bond right away, as she was probably looking for, but he was sure to give her power, a coven, a pup even -just like his dad to his mom- if she wanted to. Anything, he just needed a bite.
It took a while for her to finally be seen on the long entry stairs. She was stunning: a full black leather suit -very contemporary- she looked like a cat ready to chase its mouse. He'll be hers if she only says yes. There he was, closing the distance with that joyful smile of hers when his mother rushed to his side, taking his arm.
"Back off." No further explanation, but Yuna's voice was alarming enough. She didn't take her eyes off the blonde while David crossed the room to push him behind his back. Shane’s heart hammered against his ribs -a human sound that felt too loud in the sudden silence.
“Dad?” He knew better than to raise his voice, his father's senses being strong enough to hear him.
“We’ve got company, Shane. Her smell is off. Something is off.”
She brought someone?
“I’m sorry to break through this way, dear Yuna, Hollanders, friends.” Rose’s head bows to the coven’s leader and then to the room. She sounded nervous, but she quickly fixed her tone: “But I truly ran in on short notice when I met my companion.”
She turned toward the hall, where high heels were sounding stronger until a gorgeous brunette walked into the room to take Rose's hand. Shane caught the way her chest went up and down with each breath. Another human. The blonde flashed an apologetic look to Shane before carrying on.
“It might seem surreal, but she does it for me.” Every jaw dropped, including Shane’s. “And I know what you're thinking based on her smell.”
Shane wondered what she smelled like, cursing his human senses. His dad caught up to his train of thought like it was pure instinct: “A Rozanov,” he whispered, disgust climbing into his voice. “They both smell like they dipped into a pool of Rozanovs.”
“She was their servant since birth, but we met last month for a conference and… it clicked, okay? It’s hard to explain.” She shot another look at Shane before turning her gaze to a visibly relaxed Yuna.
What? Was his mom accepting this? What a traitor.
“Are you turning her?” The Hollander leader carefully asked, taking one careful step closer.
Rose nodded shyly, letting a smile break through her face, infecting her date with matching dreamy eyes and pink cheeks. Shane was halfway through a murder plan in his head.
“I’m here to say goodbye. Tonight, I’ll hunt -because I’ll need strength- and then we’ll be gone.”
Gone. Rose would be gone by the morning. His plan was crumbling under his feet.
“Oh, darling!” His traitor mom lunged herself to hug the younger vampire and then she reached for her face and gave her what seemed like a congratulation. Shane didn’t get to hear the end of it, his senses incapable of breaking through the tons of conversations that got louder after the gesture.
The tension melted. Everyone around him seemed happy, in awe. In their world, getting a fledgling was a huge milestone -even more with a romantic bond. It was like getting married or graduating as a human, so it was natural for vampires to congratulate each other. Goddamned, Shane himself would be expected to congratulate her in just a few seconds.
Ok, maybe a suicide plan would do.
“Are you okay, buddy?” David’s voice reached his ears. His dad was using the tone. That sweet, careful tone used to speak to a baby. Shane loved it and hated it in equal parts.
“I am.”
“I know hearing the R-word is never a nice thing,” David carried on anyway, brushing his hair softly behind his ear. “But Rose is a great girl.”
Shane had to control every cell in his body not to roll his eyes.
“I know, dad, it’s just… weird. To hear someone is getting turned… it seems so easy.” He knew he was being bratty, but he felt like crying or throwing a full tantrum at 25 years old. Or pulling some gorgeous brunette's curly hair.
“Shane.” The baby tone again. A warning. “We’ve talked about this.”
He shook his head, his eyes pooling with tears threatening to spill onto his cheeks. He had to get out of here. He ignored his dad and launched himself toward Rose, interrupting her conversation with
Yuna with zero respect.
“Shane, h-” The blonde barely breathed out.
“Congratulations,” he snapped. “I’m very happy for you.” Oh, he wasn’t. Rage flowed through his veins along with his blood, red probably coloring the freckles on his cheeks.
“Hmm, thanks, Shane…” She seemed flushed too, her uncomfortable gaze shifting from mother to son. “But, hmmm… can we talk?”
Shane didn’t bother to check his mom’s reaction. Yuna knew about the kiss; it was almost impossible to hide it. He had bumped into her right after it, with sore lips and her smell all over his skin. This must look pretty bad -like a jealous scene, as if she were breaking his heart.
She was, just not in the way Yuna would’ve expected. She was tearing him apart. If he were cool-headed, he would be thrilled for her; it was an adorable story and the human girl was gorgeous. Their hands intertwined tightly, as if they both felt anchored by it. Safe, loved.
But everything Shane could think about now was that it would take so long to find another trustworthy vampire. He already knew most fledglingless vampires that had a good relationship with his coven, and none of them ever made him feel comfortable enough. Was he going to be a thirty-something vampire, or maybe fifty-something like his dad? Oh, man, the tears were already falling.
“No.” He rushed to wipe his eyes. “There’s nothing to talk about. Have a good eternity, Rose. Happy turning.” And he politely bowed his head to both sire and fledgling-to-be before running to take the stairs and disappearing into the marble hallways of their mansion.
Two whole plates of pasta and hundreds of back-scratches later, Shane felt better. At least he had stopped crying an hour ago. The moon was rising in his window, and more and more vampires were gathering in the front yard as the hunt organization started. Everybody was joking, dancing, and laughing.
Hunting was always fun and exciting to vampires. They’d get in formation and wait to hear the beautiful song of a trumpet to set themselves free, rushing into the woods. They’d climb mountains as if flying and jump from cliffs with screams of joy -hunting any warm-blooded creature unlucky enough to be passing by, making bets, forming alliances, and chasing each other through the dark.
His mom was downstairs organizing everything, making sure every last-minute detail was perfect, but she had promised she’d stop by to kiss him goodnight. Like a fucking kid. His dad hadn’t left his side since he’d run up to his room, though Shane knew he must be hungry; David’s skin had to be itching to hunt with his kind.
But David managed to act cool, sitting on the bed, scratching Shane’s back and now petting his head as Shane hid his face in embarrassment. He felt weaker than ever, helpless. He hated every beat of his stupid, fragile human heart.
“You know, buddy,” David started, his voice a low hum as he continued to comb Shane’s hair with his fingers. “Besides the risks, we want to wait for your turn because your mom and I... we just want you to feel that zip. To find a strong bond, whether it's romantic or not.”
Shane stayed face -down in his pillow. “I liked Rose.”
“You liked the idea of her fangs. I see you, remember? I can smell deception, but not a heartbroken soul,” David corrected gently, not realizing how much it stung. Right -even his sweet dad was another awesome creature, better than Shane in every way.
“True love, the kind of bond your mother and I have... it’s like a physical shock. It’s like the first time you see the sun after a long winter. It’s a thrill that makes your heart stop and restart all at once.
Literally.” Shane refused to laugh at his dad's joke, but he couldn't help a tiny smile.
“You deserve someone who makes you feel like the only thing worth living for. They must be the only thing worth dying for, too. Turning is not a transaction, Shane. You know better than that.”
Shane shifted, his jaw tightening. “But I know everyone, Dad. I’ve met every respectable vampire you’ve introduced me to, so why can't I find that? Why haven’t I met them yet? I’m getting old, Dad. My clock is ticking.”
“Shane, bud, you have a long life in front of you.” Shane groaned in response and moved a little out of reach. David reached out anyway, patting his back.
“No, seriously! Everything won’t always work out exactly as you planned...” David paused, searching for the right words. “Maybe there’s someone else to meet that we haven’t thought of. There are so many possibilities, champ. Maybe your person isn't a close friend of the coven, Shane. Maybe… maybe, they’re even out there, in the human world.”
“What do you mean?” Shane asked. Was he saying...?
“People who age like you, who see the world in decades instead of centuries.”
“You can’t mean that!”
“It’s a beautiful life, Shane. Full of color because it’s so short. You’re the love of our lives, buddy. We love you just as you are. I made peace with it long ago, since the first time you called me Dad. If you’re meant to be a human forever, I’ll be happy to watch you live among your kind. I’ve talked your mom through it…”
Shane bolted upright, his eyes red -rimmed and flashing with hurt. “Among my kind? You mean the weak ones? You’re basically saying you never pictured me as a vampire, Dad. That I’m a guest in my own home.”
“Shane, no, I just meant-”
“You meant that vampires are too good for me!” Shane’s voice rose, his hands curling into fists.
He knew he was being a selfish bitch. He could see his lovely dad’s heart crumbling behind his eyes, but goddamned, he was already ruined. David Hollander had no intention of ever turning him. Shane was about to snap, about to let out words he’d regret later, when the door opened.
Yuna stepped inside, oblivious to the tension in the room -the scent of distress probably explained away by the scene with Rose. Her hunting gown was already on; she looked like a Victorian wicked courtesan -regal, lethal, and devastatingly beautiful.
“The hunt is starting, my loves,” she said, stepping in to kiss Shane’s forehead, then David’s. “We’ll be gone all night. You’ll be alone tonight, Shane, just you and the human staff. You remember the rules, right?”
He nodded, but she paused anyway, waiting for him to say them out loud. He didn't feel like talking. He didn’t know if he could open his mouth without screaming at his mother that he was going to die, and that his father was accepting it with grace.
“Stay inside the mansion. I mean it.” Her eyes turned serious. “It is strictly forbidden to go into the woods during any hunt, but tonight more than ever. Rose confessed that a Rozanov ambassador is lurking close by, keeping watch to make sure her new fledgling, Svetlana, is settled.”
David tilted his head. “Is he alone? Or did the ambassador bring a fledgling of his own to the hunt?”
Yuna shrugged, checking the buckles on her gauntlets. “Apparently, he’s a young Rozanov. No fledgling of his own. Just a shadow in the trees. Anyway, don’t be afraid, Shane, my baby. They aren't like us, but he’ll know better than to get close.”
When they finally left a couple of minutes later, Shane lay back down, staring at the ceiling. Soon, the long, haunting melody of the trumpet echoed through the valley. The hunt had begun. He heard the distant, joyful screams of his coven as they vanished into the dark, and eventually, he drifted off into dreamland.
But sleep didn't last. Two hours later, Shane’s eyes snapped open in the dark. The room was silent. The mansion was empty.
A young Rozanov. An ambassador. No fledgling.
The idea hit him like a physical blow. Rose was gone. His parents thought he was a fragile human who belonged in a different world. If he couldn't get a bite from a friend, he’d find one from an enemy.
He’d find this ambassador. He’d look him in the eye and ask for fangs in his skin. Or at least show his parents exactly how far his desperate human heart could go.
Shane sat up, a reckless, dark grin spreading across his face.
Yes. This would teach them.