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Chapter 3 : The rejection

Author: Alab ng Apoy
last update publish date: 2026-07-09 14:25:06

After Kael’s rejection, the guards didn't hesitate to push me away from the gates. "Leave now, miss, or we’re calling the police."

As I turned to walk away, I crossed paths with a man stepping toward the entrance. I froze—it was the same mysterious man who had saved me on the night of the attack. I couldn't believe my eyes. What was he doing here?

He didn't spare me a glance, walking straight into the building. The guards shoved me again, and with nowhere left to turn, I finally stumbled away into the city.

I stopped at a fast-food chain for dinner, my mind racing. "What do I do now? I only have ten thousand pesos left."

It wouldn't be enough to survive here, and I faced a grim choice: swallow my pride and crawl back to my province, or find work in the city. But where would I sleep? Where would I bathe? A hotel was out of the question; my money wouldn't last a week.

"I have no other choice," I whispered.

That night, I went to the police station, hoping to sleep outside the entrance. I felt safer with officers nearby. But by the next morning, they noticed me lingering and chased me off, telling me it was against the rules to loiter there.

I didn't argue. I left, wandering aimlessly, my heart heavy with despair. I looked up at the sky, screaming silently. Why was I being tested like this? My family was dead, my fiancé had abandoned me, and I was now nothing more than a stray on the streets.

"I have to find a job," I told myself.

I spent the next several hours walking, ducking into another fast-food joint to rest. It was cool inside, a relief from the sweltering heat, but after a few hours, a waiter caught me and ordered me to leave. I was out on the street again.

Catching my reflection in a storefront window, I felt a wave of self-pity. I used to be a girl of status, and now, I was losing everything.

Maybe I should just go home, I thought.

But before I could even take a step, a man on a motorcycle swerved past and snatched my bag.

"Hey! Come back with that!"

Everything I had—my papers, my clothes, my remaining money—was inside that bag. I tried to run, but even as a werewolf, I was still young. My abilities wouldn't fully awaken until I turned twenty-two. I was just an ordinary girl, gasping for air as the motorcycle vanished into the city traffic.

"Give me my money back!" I screamed, my voice breaking.

I collapsed on the sidewalk, shaking with exhaustion and defeat. It was too much. "Are you happy now?" I shouted at the heavens. "You took my family, my fiancé threw me out, I have no home, and now you’ve taken my last cent! What else do you want from me?"

I was trembling with rage and frustration, fed up with the cruel hand life had dealt me. "You want to break me? Fine! Take it all! I’ll take whatever else you want to throw at me!"

As I stood in the middle of the street, screaming my grievances at the sky, the clouds opened up and a torrential downpour began. I didn't bother to find shelter. I let the rain soak me to the bone, hoping it would hide the tears streaming down my face. I sat in the middle of the road, wondering if life was even worth the struggle anymore.

Then, I felt a presence.

Someone approached, draping a heavy jacket over my shoulders and pulling me to my feet.

"What do you think you’re doing?"

I looked up to see the mysterious man again. He was scolding me, his expression harsh, but he gently steered me toward his car to escape the rain. I was too numb to protest.

"You? Why are you here?"

"Are you insane?" he snapped, his voice sharp with anger. "What were you thinking, sitting in the middle of the street like that? Are you trying to kill yourself?"

I didn't answer. I just stared at the floorboards. He saw how drenched I was and cranked the car’s heat, telling me he was taking me to his condo.

"I’m taking you to my place so you can change. Is that clear?"

"Do whatever you want," I murmured, my voice hollow. "Throw me off a highway or dump me in the nearest river. I don't care anymore."

He sighed and didn't say another word, driving me to a high-end condominium that looked more like a five-star hotel than an apartment.

Inside, he pointed toward the bathroom. "Get in there and wash up. Now."

He practically shoved me toward the door, where robes and toiletries were already laid out. After I showered and changed, I stepped into the living room. He was sitting on the sofa, watching TV. When he saw me, he tossed me a spare shirt.

"I don't have anything else," he said. "I’ll have a service pick up your wet clothes."

"Thank you," I began, my voice trembling. "I owe you my life, and now—"

"I ordered pizza," he interrupted, his tone cold. "Eat, and once your clothes are dry, you’re leaving."

I was shocked. "You want me to leave immediately?"

"You're a werewolf, so you aren't welcome here," he replied coldly, eyes glued to the screen. "You’ve had a shower and a meal. That should be enough."

His attitude ignited a spark of anger in me. "Is that all you are? Cold and rude? There are ten million werewolves in the world, not just me. Do you have some kind of problem with us?"

"I don't have a problem with them," he said, not moving. "I just don't like you."

I marched over and stood in front of the TV to force him to look at me. "I’m confused. You saved me, you helped me, but you’re angry at me just because I’m a werewolf?"

"Move," he sighed. "You're blocking the view."

I sat on the sofa, refusing to budge. "You can't just be cruel to people. I’m grateful for your help, but if you’re going to treat me like this, then I’m going to be angry. Why are you helping me if you hate my kind so much?"

He let out a long, frustrated breath and stood up, walking toward me. "You really want to know why?"

He pulled me back onto the sofa and pinned my wrists, his grip firm. I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. "W-wait... what are you doing?"

He leaned in close, his face inches from mine, and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of my neck. His eyes began to shift, the iris burning with a bright, terrifying crimson.

"I am Xian," he whispered, his eyes glowing the color of fresh blood. "And I am a son of Dracula."

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