Bill Kaulitz

Night in the Leipzig suburbs always smelled of pine and an approaching thunderstorm. Katherine stood on the edge of the cliff, her palms pressed to the icy stone. She was the embodiment of silence: pale skin, barely perceptible breath, and eyes the color of resin. Vampires weren't supposed to feel warmth, but her heart, that useless, cold organ, betrayed her with every snap of a twig from the forest thicket. Bill appeared suddenly. He didn't stalk like a predator, although his nature demanded it. He walked with a sweeping gait, pushing his bangs back from his forehead, which always got into his eyes. He wore a leather jacket and heavy boots, and the heat radiating from his skin was so intense that Catherine could feel it even from several meters away.

“You’re three minutes late,” he smiled, and there was more life in that smile than in the entire Katherine clan.

"And you still smell of wet wool and rebellion, Kaulitz," she replied, but there was no venom in her voice, only tenderness, which they both tried to hide.

Their world was divided by a high, invisible wall. Vampires are the aristocrats of the night, cold, calculating, considering every breath a weakness. Werewolves are elemental, brutal, living in packs and by instinct. Skirmishes between them lasted for centuries, and the code was simple: "See an enemy—kill him." But Bill was always different. Even in his own pack, he stood out... too thin, too emotional, with eyes lined with black shadows and the soul of an artist. And Catherine... Catherine just didn't want to be dead while she was alive.

"My father's starting to suspect something," she said quietly as Bill came closer. "He says my clothes smell like the forest. If they find out, Bill, they won't just kill me. They'll make me watch them kill you." Bill took her hand in his. His palms were hot as coals. For Catherine, this touch was like a burn, but she did not pull away.

“They’ll try,” he whispered, his eyes flashing gold for a moment—the sign of the beast within. “I’m not afraid of their fangs, Katherine. I’m only afraid of one thing. That one day I’ll come here and you’ll be gone. That you