The midnight hour was fast asleep as they passed through the narrow town. It was quiet compared to the village they had come from. She followed Slagle through the town's separate routes. From where she stood, she could see the narrow homes formed of rocks. The smog rising from the houses' fireplaces was quite noticeable. Slagle tapped three times, and an old woman appeared, her hair silvery white and her face wrinkled, signs of her advanced age. Adhara sounded confused and jolted when the old woman clasped her hands. "You must be drained and starved. Come inside." Adhara bowed and glanced at Slagle. "We need a place to stay for the night," Slagle said to the old woman. "You're always welcome here, Slagle." Her lips twisted into a smile as she looked at Slagle. "And this lovely woman?" "Adhara, good evening, madam." It's customary for a werewolf to bow to someone who offers help, even if they're an Alpha. "Nice meeting you, Adhara." She opened the door wide to let Slagle
She quickly put on the cloak and watched Slagle move out of the place where they spent the night. All of a sudden, her eyes turned gray, shining in the darkness of the night. She could feel the horrors that were just around the corner. She could inhale the essence of Jarckon—his body, his scent—that spilled over in her nostrils. She abruptly shut off, and her body chilled as she sensed the howling melodies of the wind. She could hear the noises of the beast yearning for flesh and blood, ready to tear their victims to pieces. Slagle dragged her and brought her to a place where they could stay for the night. “Hurry up!” She snapped back to reality as Slagle dragged her out of the place where they were hiding. “Where are we going?” “To the safest place.” They hurriedly left the village behind and sailed into the icy twilight night. Slagle took her hand as they ran through the village. Adhara let him grab her hands and take her waist as they hopped over the blocks of the village.
She strolled farther, and the sun climbed higher, casting a blush of heat across her skin. The town was overcrowded—humans moved, ran, and bustled with spending money, while others attended an event in the plaza. She turned to glimpse the gentleman who’d saved her and brought her here, but he was already out of sight. She continued along the path, running without a plan. Before she knew it, she was far from the town, deep in the woodlands, where an awful feeling settled over her. Eyes seemed to glare at her from every shadow, as if waiting to devour her. Fear coiled in her bones as she spotted them: creatures with eyes like glinting shards at midnight, tall hare-like ears, dusty fur, and small, compact bodies. Her feet carried her to Elfin, a magical realm of imps, hidden far from mortal lands. They sheltered in the woods, terrified that werewolves would tear them apart. Adhara spun around when an Elfin approached, blades and arrows aimed at her. “Who are you? What are you doing h
She looked out the window, and her eyes fixed on the castle grounds—memories flooded back: the place where she’d met Jarckon, the tunnel, and the secret door in the kitchen. It was a relief he didn’t post guards outside her room all day. That night, as she fell asleep, she resolved to escape. This was the time to run—from the castle, from Jarckon. For the past few days, she’d cooked his breakfast, walked with him in the garden, watered the plants, and helped him tend to the grounds. The guards allowed her to move freely, which gave her an opportunity. At dawn, she began plotting. She marked the key gate with chalk as her exit point and tied threads to trees along the path, creating a trail out of North Oregon Castle. Later, in the garden, she joined Jarckon as usual. She stared into his emerald eyes—this might be the last time. Those eyes had fascinated her, stirred feelings she couldn’t ignore, yet also filled her with loathing. “This is the most wonderful moment of my life,” she
Adhara and Jarckon had time to get to know each other well—they frequently saw each other and took walks in the castle garden. There were times he sent gifts without an occasion, which made Adhara flattered. She also often cooked for Jarckon and they had breakfast together. The servants and other people in the castle gossiped that the two had special feelings for each other. One morning, Jarckon caught Adhara busy sprinkling plants and observed that she loved gardening. She had a green thumb that brought dying plants back to life. “You love what you’re doing.” Her heart beat like a drum when she heard Jarckon’s voice. She hadn’t expected him to be there that day—she thought he had a business meeting with another werewolf clan. “Did I surprise you?” Jarckon asked in his cold voice. “Oh, I never expected you to be here. I thought you had important things to do.” “Hmm… Yes, but I cancelled it.” “Why?” Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. She wondered what his reason could be. Jarckon
On the day Adhara unleashed her werewolf nature, Jarckon gave her more privacy and let her come and go from the castle. She couldn’t explain why she’d suddenly transformed in front of him—it was just because of the kiss he’d shared with her at the waterfall. Adhara felt hatred toward Jarckon again, yet she still craved his kisses. She couldn’t stop herself from tasting his sweet lips, from feeling his warm breath every time he kissed her. One night, when the world was deeply asleep and moonlight cast a faint glow in her dark room, Jarckon entered naked, not a stitch of clothing on him. He approached Adhara silently, then grabbed her and kissed her. His kisses warmed her body like a fire about to explode. The heat between them ignited lust, and the night became a steamy blur. Jarckon’s lips trailed down her body. He removed Adhara’s clothes, one piece at a time, his hands caressing her skin slowly. His lips moved to her breast, and he teased her nipple with his tongue. She moaned a