****NEW CHAPTERS EVERY WEEK**** A human has been found near the borders of Blue Orchid Pack, the largest one in the state of Rysterbia. The Blue Orchid pack is mysterious and ruthless. Their Alpha, Azraiel Michaelson is said to be an angry man with mystical powers at his disposal, but when a human enters his life without warning, all his powers seem useless to him. He is a Trueblood...the rarest of werewolves in the world...and yet so powerless in front of circumstances. What will happen when the path of the strongest Alpha collides with a human? ******* Charlotte is scared when she finds herself in a hospital, but the handsome man in front of her confuses her even more. Where is she? What happened to her? And....the biggest question....Who is HE? With a past that she neither understands nor likes and threats looming over her head, she has no idea what the future holds for her. Will she be alive tomorrow? Umm....Can't say. Will she stay here? Don't know. Will everything remain the same if she stays? Well...NO FREAKING IDEA. *******
View MoreAzraiel quietly steps into the house, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting a warm circle of light over the cluttered table. The scent of old books and fresh ink hangs in the air. Charlotte and Katya sit hunched over a spread of aged, leather-bound journals, their brows furrowed in concentration. The pages are filled with cryptic language, symbols and characters that twist and curl in an almost hypnotic dance. Beside the journals, a notepad lies open, filled with hastily scribbled notes and tentative translations.Katya's hair is pulled back into a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her intense expression. Her fingers trace the symbols delicately, as if afraid to smudge the ink. Charlotte leans closer to the pages, mouthing the unfamiliar words under her breath. A soft hum of concentration fills the room, punctuated only by the occasional scratch of a pen or the rustle of paper.He smiles a bit, remembering their first encounter in this very home. Back then, Charlotte was unaware
Charlotte and Katya sat at a small, round mahogany table near the fireplace, its embers glowing faintly, providing a comforting warmth. The table was cluttered with the tools of their current endeavour: several old, leather-bound journals, yellowed with age, lay open alongside notebooks filled with their meticulous scribbles. A few reference books on ancient languages and a magnifying glass were also scattered across the table.Charlotte, with her black hair pulled back into a loose bun, leaned over one of the journals, her brow furrowed in concentration. She wore a simple yet elegant navy dress, her sleeves rolled up to avoid smudging the ink. Katya, sitting across from her, was equally focused. Her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she absently twirled a strand around her finger as she read. She wore a light blue blouse and jeans, her attire more casual but equally practical for their work.The room was filled with the quiet rustling of pages and the occasional murmured wor
The air in the dungeon was thick and oppressive, laden with the scent of damp stone and old magic. Charlotte, her face pale and tense, kept a cautious distance, while Azraiel's stern gaze never wavered from the unconscious form of Arthur lying on the rough stone floor, all thanks to the sleeping medicine mixed in his food by Katya. Matt, his expression a mask of concern, stood protectively close to Charlotte, ready for anything.Azraiel’s voice broke the silence, a command wrapped in the velvet of his authority. "Katya.”That was enough to make her move. Previously, she had discovered to threads of magic on Arthur. When she told Azraiel about this, he asked her to look into the matter and discover who cast spells on Arthur.Katya nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She stepped forward, her hands trembling slightly as she knelt beside Arthur. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and began to chant the ancient incantation, her voice steady and resonant despite the turmoil within
Katya sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of her cabin, surrounded by stacks of dusty books and old journals. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and a hint of lavender, her mother’s favourite herb. Sunlight streamed in through the small, round window, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the particles of dust that danced in the air. She carefully opened one of her mother's old journals, its leather cover worn and soft from years of use.There was a sense of urgency driving her, a need to uncover something she had overlooked before. The memory of seeing that strange, cryptic language in the books belonging to Charlotte's mother had stirred something deep within her. It was the same language she had seen, long ago, in the margins of her mother's journals, but had never been able to understand. She still remembers sneaking into her mother’s room to steal her favourite lipstick from her bag but coming across a strange journal instead. The cover of that journal w
Charlotte was stunned when Azraiel relayed the events that took place that evening. She knew she had a nightmare, but she had no idea that the said nightmare was about her.Of course, it was! Her wolf remarks.Smartass!She thought that she was a threat to everyone else, so she unknowingly cast a protection spell to contain herself within the half circle. It came as a relief that even when she wasn’t aware, she was wise enough to protect her pack. This eased her worries of becoming a danger to some extent.At least she is not trying to be dangerous on purpose.This incident forced her to face the truth. Her truth! She needs to know herself really well. So well, that she is aware of every being residing inside her and its capabilities and nature. To do nothing would be a gamble on the future. She is too smart to make that mistake.In their home, Azraiel and Charlotte quietly had dinner and went upstairs to the spare room. The damage in their room couldn’t be fixed right now so they d
The moon hung heavy and bloated in the ink-black sky, casting an eerie silver glow upon the desolate landscape below. Charlotte stood alone on the edge of a cliff, her heart pounding like thunder in her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps that misted in the frigid air. The wind howled mournfully, whipping her dark hair about her face in wild tendrils.But it wasn't just the weather that sent shivers down her spine—it was the figure standing before her, a twisted reflection of herself. Its eyes glowed with a feral light, glinting like shards of shattered glass in the moonlight. Its lips peeled back in a snarl, revealing gleaming, razor-sharp teeth that dripped with blood.Charlotte recoiled in horror, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was seeing. Was this truly her? Was this the monster that lurked within, waiting to be unleashed? The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, filling her with a bone-deep terror, unlike anything she had ever known.She tried to turn
“Hello, Uncle!”Arthur’s eyes snap to Charlotte. As he takes in the woman standing before him, his eyes widen in disbelief and fear.As if he has seen a ghost, he scrambles to put as much as distance possible between them but ends up falling flat on his ass.Charlotte smirks, letting her teeth extend into canines and peek out of her mouth.Arthur starts sweating profusely. He looks at Azraiel and Katya for help but when they maintain a stone face, he realizes he is on his own.“Y-“ he gulps, “You are alive.” He trembles.Charlotte grins. The smell of his fear gives her immense satisfaction.“Yup.” She says popping the ‘p’. “I am alive, despite your schemes to get me killed.”Arthur’s face changes at the accusation.He regains his composure, or at least tries to.“I never wanted you dead, Charlotte. They wanted to kill you but I convinced them to let you leave the continent.” He says, his voice a little clearer than before.Charlotte’s eyes harden.“And that makes it alright?” Arthur v
Under the blazing sun, Charlotte stands tall, her muscles glistening with sweat as she pauses to catch her breath. The training grounds are a flurry of activity, filled with the sounds of clashing swords and grunts of exertion. Preparation is key for the impending battle, Kira told her before she started training her.Charlotte begins her training regimen with a series of stretching exercises, her movements fluid and precise. Limbering up her body, she ensures that every muscle is ready for the challenges ahead. With each stretch, she focuses her mind, channelling her inner strength and determination. She starts with the basics, honing her agility and speed by darting through the underbrush with the grace of a prowling predator. Each movement is deliberate, and calculated, as she weaves between trees and leaps over fallen logs, her wolfish instincts guiding her every step.Next comes combat training. Charlotte faces off against imaginary foes, her claws extended and her fangs bared in
The old cabin nestled within the dense thicket of the village seemed almost as weary as the man who inhabited it. Arthur sat slouched at a rustic wooden table, a dimly flickering lantern casting long shadows across his haggard face. His weathered hands clutched a half-empty bottle of whiskey, its amber contents offering temporary solace to a soul burdened with remorse.The air was heavy with the weight of his regrets, each breath heaved with the weight of his betrayals. Through tear-blurred eyes, he stared out of the cabin's small, frosted window, watching as the moon cast an eerie glow upon the surrounding trees. It was a night ripe with both sorrow and danger.Outside, in the veil of darkness, lurked creatures of myth and legend. Werewolves, guardians of the forest, prowled silently, their keen senses attuned to the slightest movement. Among them, two pairs of amber eyes fixated on the cabin, the Beta and the Head Warrior of the Blue Orchid pack tasked with observing and bringing th
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