Amara Drivas was treated as an outcast by the Crimson moon pack. It's been sixteen years of slavery and humiliation that she endured, thinking it was the right thing to do; to be grateful knowing that she—a half-human and a half-werewolf—was accepted to live with the pack after her human mother died when she gave birth of her. She felt indebted towards the pack to whom her father was loyal, so even though the place turned out to be like hell for her, she obeyed the Alpha and the full bloods. But as she grew older, she found herself questioning the apparent inequality and unjust rules of the higher ranks, including the Alpha. The night before her seventeenth birthday, a tragedy happened before her eyes. Her father Argus Drivas and the love of her life Killan Montreal, who did nothing but obey the Alpha,were killed by the warrior wolves. Amara's wrath was kindled. All her life, she thought that shifting into a wolf would be impossible—as most werewolves in the pack have concluded that she was a cursed child, a punishment by the Moon goddess to her parents—but at that unexpected moment, she transformed into a dangerous wolf. She never felt so powerful until that night she transformed. Rage and vengeance overpowered her that killing became so easy. She killed the warrior wolves in their house and then escaped to a faraway land where werewolves couldn't enter— in Drysdale, the territory of humans. As she lived in that place, she learned new things that Amara, herself, did not even realize during her stay in the Crimson moon pack for so many years. A realization that she wasn't cursed and the power that has given her by the Moon goddess turned out to be a wonderful blessing. What else would she figure out?View More
WHEN they got into the market, Amara's eyes started to observe the mortals and those occupied stores they passed by. The combined smells of fresh fruits, meat, vegetables, and other products made her nose crinkle. The loud talking of people engulfed her ears. With this enhanced hearing she gained after the night of the full moon, she can't help but feel disturbed. The quietest conversations, even miles away, can get louder whenever she tries to eavesdrop. She didn't even need to try. Right now, she is craving silence. For her, it was like an intrusion of solitude, and she felt uncomfortable and anxious about it. Letting out a huge sigh, Amara continued walking on a muddy road. It was, indeed, a busy day for the mortals. She followed Grace as the older woman walked her way to a store that sells fresh fruits, then grabbed a piece of apple. The older woman turned and glanced at her."Do you eat apples?" Grace asked curiously.Amara's brow furrowed and her forehead
THE next day... “What’s your name?” Amara asked the older woman as they walked their way into a small market outside the woods. Wearing a simple nude-colored sweater, a rust-colored skirt flowing below her knees, and a pair of rugged boots, Amara tried to act as normal as she could be. It was a good thing that the human walking beside her has clothes in the closet that fitted her slim body as if those were there solely for her. The cold air blew her brunette curly hair. She tucked some of her hair strands behind her ear as her eyes looked their way. They’ve been walking for almost an hour. Getting out of the woods had taken thirty minutes already, and they were still walking in a wet road going to the market to buy some vegetables and meat for lunch and dinner. She wondered where the older woman gets her strength to walk back and forth despite her age. Amara sighed, her breath steaming in the air. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater to shield her fr
BEADS of sweat had formed on Amara’s forehead when she opened her eyes, forcedly waking herself up from an unwanted nightmare. She gasped as she stared at the old brown-colored thatched coconut roof. As she got up on the bed, her eyes looked around the tiny room where she was. It was dark, and the only thing that was somehow lighting up the room was the moonlight through the window.Tears started to burn her eyes. Her lower lip trembled, remembering the tragic fact that her father and Killian died unjustly.Amara cried and hugged herself. The night cold breeze embraced her skin. It was supposed to be her comfort, like how it used to be; however, at that moment, she knew that her pain wouldn’t fade away as the death of her loved ones was already pierced in her heart. It was excruciating… It was fatal.“I
AMARA’s wrath was ablaze. Looking down at the head of her beloved warrior, Killian, her hot tears could not stop falling. Rage started to build up inside her heart, along with the harrowing, tormenting feeling of loss and despair.The warrior wolves have shifted back to their human forms. She heard them laughing as nothing happened, mocking the death of his father and Killian, who did nothing but obey the Alpha.Amara could not find a way to accept the fact that these two important people in her life had to die for such an invalid reason. There was no way she would accept the horrible death of her father and Kilian. They were the only people she treasured and loved the most.‘Why did they have to die?’ She asked herself repeatedly. However, Amara could not get the answer to it.She sc
AS expected, Amara wasn’t treated by the pack doctor. Dr. Vaugh was busy attending to a pregnant Luna, and so, her father, Argus, aided her wounds using some herbal leaves instead at their home.She was able to take a rest in her tiny room after that. She fell into a deep sleep and only woke up when she heard her father’s loud cries. She got up immediately on the bed. Despite the injuries she got, she still managed to run towards the door. As soon as she opened it, her eyes turned to the people in their living room.There she saw her father on his bended knees, asking for mercy from the two high-ranked warrior werewolves in front of him.“Father!” she called Argus, her father.Terror started to creep into her body when she noticed the warriors' eyes. Those ruthless eyes seemed merciless, cold, and screaming of death and hatred.Her father turned and met her gaze. She was so scared that she could not make a single move.
AMARA could smell the scent of her blood. She gazed around the refined baroque-Esque place of a high-ranked werewolf, hoping to see familiar eyes that she could ask for help. The house was spacious and cold, and there was a lounge where the owner usually accepts her guests. It was the same place where she was being tortured in pain—her eyes are the only part of her body that was still intact.“Wake up, disgusting half-blood!”Surrounded by loud screeching voices, she felt a solid blow to her stomach. She groaned in pain, choking up a bit of blood at the same time. All she could do was embrace herself, holding into her fractured arms while laying on the cold ceramic floor. She could not get up. Her body felt so numb. She was too weak to move, and she realized that it was merely impossible to protect herself anymore because of the excruciating pain all over her body caused
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