Ana and Anton (pt 1)
I was 120 years old when I met her. She was so beautiful, to look at her was to gape in wonder. Long dark hair, luminous eyes, and a smile that I would gladly die to put on her face.
I knew what she was the moment I was close enough to smell. But then she spoke, and I didn't care.
Her voice awoke something inside of me that I didn't even know was sleeping. Desire. Not just lust, but a deep desire for more. More hours in a day, more of her company, more out of life.
What had I been before? Nothing. No more than another vampire. The grandson of Vladimir. But, with her, to her, I was someone important.
She understood me better than anyone. I wanted to be more than the shadow of my grandfather. She wanted to be more than an Alpha's daughter. So it was, we were something more, to each other.
My grandfather raged, her father was furious. We were, after all, muddying the bloodlines of two, very proud, races. But what did any of it matter when faced with your soulmate?
Choose? Never. There was no choice, I lived only for her. Coven and family be damned, and she felt the same.
On the seventh day of May, in the year 1622, I eloped with my love, my soulmate and my dearest friend; Ana Mari Montgomery. Now, Mrs. Ana Mari Dracul. 
How happy we were in those days. So in love, so carefree. Nothing could harm us, nothing could come between us, and we literally had, forever. Or, so we thought.
Her father never forgave her. He took our marriage as a betrayal on her part, and he turned her back on her, on us. Of course, the pack followed, and Ana was no longer welcome among her family, her fellow wolves.
I tried my best to give her all the love she was missing, even went running with her when she shifted. But, still, she was a lone wolf, and often, when she would run off alone, I would sit and listen to her mournful howls. 
For two hundred and sixty years, we were alone. Just the two of us. She wanted children, had always wanted them, but I held out. I knew the risks and I wouldn't take the chance of losing her. I tried to compromise, by offering to change her first, but she refused.
Whether her father and pack knew it, or not, she was still loyal to her kind in that way. She would remain a pure were. She would not put her father through that final betrayal, even if he remained unaware of it.
Holding out against the woman I loved was the hardest thing I had ever done. She longed for a family, her own little pack, and I could deny her no longer. 
Having made up my mind, I went to the only person I thought might help, my grandfather, and begged his forgiveness and aid. He, of course, knew the risks. He knew the odds of her survival, without being turned, were slim at best. But, he forgave and agreed to take us in. The child, after all, would be his heir, and he hoped, more vampire than wolf.
I knew so little about hybrids, they were rare and usually shunned by pure bloods. But being the great-grandchild of Vladimir Dracul would have its advantages. Respect among them. 
Once it was confirmed that Ana was, indeed, with child, we moved permanently in to Castle Dracul and I, once again, joined my coven. Ana was welcomed with cautious respect. She was my wife, but also, a were, and nobody forgot it. The women were friendly with her, though and she was happy. For that, I was grateful, and profoundly relieved.
The midwife grandfather brought to see to Ana and the pregnancy monitored her daily and she was pronounced in peak condition. How happy I was, so much so, that I began to do something I hadn't since she became pregnant. I began to hope. Maybe I wouldn't lose her, after all.
Until, one day, her strength began to ebb. The child was growing too quickly and she was weakening fast. Then the answer came: not one child, but two. Her face alit with so much joy, while my heart drowned in despair. For I knew, right then, I would lose my wife.
I lost all sense of pride and dropped to my knees at her bedside. Clasping her hand tightly between mine, I did all I knew to do, I begged. I pleaded, I cried, I demanded and raged. She must terminate the pregnancy, she would never live through the birthing of two hybrids. It was impossible! Yet, still, even faced with her own demise, her children came first. I thought, maybe, she might finally agree to be turned; but, again, she refused. If she was destined to leave this world, she would leave as she entered: a proud, pureblood wolf of Pack Montgomery. 



Ana and Anton (pt 2)
As the time approached for the birth of our children, Ana and I spent every moment together. Simply being, talking, touching, loving. Again and again I pleaded and begged; again and again, she denied my request.
I did not fully understand why she refused to be turned, I still do not. But, whatever her reasons, the decision was hers. I could not make it for her, though I ached to. How I ached to. 
I recall holding her close to me, her head resting on my chest as we reclined on our bed. My hand was slowly petting her head, fingers twining through the silky strands of her hair. She was talking softly of her dreams for the children, what she wished for them. She asked that I take them to her father, at least once, so he could meet them. It was not something I wished to do, ever, but I agreed. How could I not? I would deny her nothing. Not then, or ever. 
I could feel the babies within her, moving, kicking, and I loved them. Though, I'll admit, a part of me resented their very existence. They were taking my love from me.
But they were mine. My family, my flesh and blood, my legacy, and I loved them.
"What shall we name them, love?", I asked her, for I would never say I, always we. I still could not imagine or accept raising them without her.
"I'd like to name the girl, Addison, after my grandmother." she answered, smiling. "And if it's two girls, what then?" I asked with amusement. She looked up at me then, her face set with seriousness, "It isn't, it's a girl and a boy. I can feel it." Somehow, I believed her. A woman's instinct is not something I normally question, and a mother's instinct about her children, never.
So, Addison it would be. She left me to choose the boy's name. Obviously it should begin with A, can't have him being the odd one out. I considered Anton, but it didn't feel right. Then I remembered a young English boy I had known when I was young. He was my best-friend, for a time. He did not know what I was, I never revealed it to him. I had wanted to play like a human child, just for awhile, just to see what it was like. My grandfather eventually found out and the friendship was ended. But, it was among my happiest childhood memories: my friendship with Ashton. 
We looked into eachother's eyes, smiling with so much happiness and joy, having agreed on the names for our children; and in that moment, our life was perfect. In that moment, we were a real, complete, family:
Anton Mason Dracul
Ana Mari Montgomery-Dracul
Ashton Mason Dracul
Addison Mari Dracul


Ashton and Addison (pt 1)
The day arrived. Ana's pain awoke her in the middle of the night, May the 7th, 1887. Our wedding anniversary. How bittersweet that I should lose my love 265 years, to the day, that I made her my wife.
Her pain was unbearable, heart wrenching to watch. I died a bit more inside with each contraction.
Her screams echoed through the halls of our coven home, bringing the midwife rushing to her side. Young aids running about doing the midwife's bidding.
I never left her side; I held her hand and crooned softly in ear, telling her how amazing she was, how strong and brave. But, especially, reminding her how much I loved her. How I couldn't imagine my life without her. My soul was hers, and she would take it and my heart with her if she left me. 
The smell of the blood was overwhelming, there was so much, and still, the babies didn't come. Her screaming grew horrendous and I screwed my eyes shut tight against the look of horrific pain on her face. But the screaming, it echoed through my mind, growing in volume, becoming hundreds of voices.
It /was/ hundreds of voices, and my eyes snapped open as the realization struck. Something was wrong. Something was horribly, terribly wrong. 
My head jerked toward the door, then back to my wife. Our wide eyes connected, hers so full of pain and fear. Mine, I'm sure, filled with panicked uncertainty.
What was I to do? I couldn't leave her. Not now.
My eyes fell to the pulse at her throat, I must change her, now. I would do nothing else until her life was secure. 
But she squeezed my hand, drawing my gaze back to hers, and shook her head, uttering one word: "Go". 
I swallowed back all of my emotions: fear, pain, and yes, anger.
Didn't she love me enough to stay with me, at all costs? Was that damned pack pride more powerful than even our love? A tremendous growl tore past my lips, one born of resentment and heart wrenching loss, and I went.
I flew from the room, tearing through the halls of the castle, until the smell of blood, sweat, tears, fear and pain, all met and slammed my senses.
My face froze in horror at the image before me. Men and women fighting for their lives. Vampire and human alike. Our men being run through with swords and sharpened stakes. Our women dragged, beaten, beheaded, and finally, burned. 
Oh, the smell. I've never experienced anything like it, before or since. A great fire was burning, piled high with bodies. Children, babies, no one was spared. They were screaming and calling us monsters. Us! They with their weapons and torches, murdering newborns, were calling us monsters!
All we had was our strength, speed and fangs; we had never needed human weaponry. We brought down men, one after another, but their numbers seemed endless. They had been planning for some time and had built a great army. With their guns, they slowed us enough to take advantage. Legs and arms were sliced through with their swords. They were smart. Too smart.
They must have known for so long, to know us so well. They were defeating us, we would all die; unless, we fled.
I had a man by the throat, squeezing and watching the life drain from him with vast satisfaction; the murderous demon deserved it; when two hands grabbed me from behind. I dropped the lifeless human and spun to attack, but the face of my grandfather stayed my hand.
He pulled me from the fray, reminded me of the event taking place in the back room. The new little lives needing their father's protection, and we ran. We sped to the back, slamming and barring the door, and I heard the wails of my children calling to me.
They were alive! They were well, and healthy and so beautiful.
But, Ana, my beautiful, brave wife. My soulmate, partner, and dearest friend, was gone. 
She was lying on the bed, motionless. I could smell her blood, but knew it no longer flowed. Her face was still, finally she had found peace, had left the pain behind. One arm stretched out, and I wondered, briefly, if she had been seeking me, or perhaps, the children.
So many images, sounds, smells, emotions, bombarding my mind, wracking my senses. All at once, all so quickly, and yet, somehow, in slow motion. As if the world had ceased its turning, then restarted, but my mind hadn't quite caught up. 
Grandfather was shouting in my face, and I snapped to attention, blinking away the painful image as he thrust my son into my hands. 
I looked down at him, and I must have still been in shock, because I thought, how is it that I'm holding myself? A tiny little me. 
The cool air of the night engulfs me and I see that we are outside. When did that happen? Where's Ana? But no, she's gone, and we're escaping the carnage of our fallen coven. We're saving the children. My children. Ana is lost, the family, our home, our life, all gone.
But we remained, we would live on.



Ashton and Addison (pt. 2) 
INTRODUCTION 
We traveled for days through the wooded countryside. The children being fed and cared for by the midwife. Grandfather and I discussing potential places to begin anew.
It would take time, we knew, to rebuild our coven, and it would never be the same. If we were to rebuild our race, it would be by turning mortals. No pureblood females were left. Or were they?
We had no way to know who, if anyone, had escaped the human scourge, as we had.
Grandfather felt that the greatest hope for the children was to take them to Ana's family members, I couldn't disagree. I knew very well that her father would turn us away, so the next person to go to, was Thorton, Ana's uncle.
He was a Montgomery, but being an outsider of the pack and a Duke, he was our best chance of protecting the children; if he would take them. Nothing was certain, except my need to see them safe.......