Claimed by My Enemy Alpha Mate
It was on a moonlit night, as a young and naive boy, Phoebe and I began our favorite nighttime activity—treasure hunting.
Basically, after nightfall, we would venture to remote places and try our luck, hoping to find materials I needed for my witchcraft, such as black bull bones or white moth wings. Sometimes, if luck was on our side, we'd stumble upon abandoned corpses in the wilderness, which were excellent materials for practicing witchcraft.
But I never expected that day I would unearth a half-dead werewolf boy in a ditch.
That night, Phoebe chirped excitedly from the branches, proud that she had found such a rare material for me. But when I exerted myself to transport him to my house, t