8. Blood Ties

In the oppressive heat, the ceaseless droning of cicadas served as a grim reminder of a time Violet wished could be buried deep in the past. The expansive forest, with its towering trees and dense underbrush, held captive the memories of her childhood. It was a playground of innocent joys, yet simultaneously a theater of nightmares that relentlessly haunted her.

She was born and raised in the forest's deepest recesses, where whispers of her father's name would send shivers down the spine of even the bravest wolves. The mere utterance of his identity conjured tales of savagery, of a wolf who knew no bounds, who reveled in bloodshed and reveled in the cries of his adversaries.

He was a figure of dark allure; raven-black hair cascaded down his broad shoulders, while his eyes, deep pools of onyx, seemed to swallow all warmth and light. There were moments, fleeting and rare, when those eyes would soften as they settled on his young daughter, giving Violet a deceptive sens