Terren"Wow," I looked at what had to be the most beautiful female I ever had the fortune to lay my eyes on. With dirty blonde hair that if one looked really closely, will see very a faint red tint to it, her locks lay so perfectly down her back and the moonlight bounced off her pale skin. Damn, my mate was beautiful. “Fifteen huh? Not bad. Not bad at all”She lay next to me, her breasts rising and falling with each heavy breath. The water from the lake barely touched my heels. I saw her close her big blue eyes with complete happiness. She smelled like a freshly picked lemon, just like my mother.My fingers touched his bare hips in small circles, soothingly. For a man who was so adamant on not having a mate, I was having funny feelings. All I wanted to do is to take her home with me, to sleep with her in my bed, to keep her away from any and all harm. And she had been harmed. It was obvious from the bruises I could see on different parts of her body when I was bringing her to glorious
Somewhere far, far away...It was a wooded pack land, only instead of it's usual liveliness and cheer, it was full of blood and despairA brutal battle had happened here. It was obvious by the presence of hundreds of bodies littering the land, bodies not of humans, but of werewolves. Some of the corpses were human in form, while others were in their more animalistic shapes. The ground was red, soaked in the blood of the Lycans and the moon shone brightly from above, illuminating the figures of those that still remained standing in all the carnage. From the scene, one could clearly distinguish two groups of people of those still in the land of the living. The first group of Lycans were in various forms of submission, some down on their knees on the blood soaked ground, bowing their heads and others who were wolven in figure had their ears flat on their heads, mouths closed and their bodies low to the ground, with their tails positioned between their hind legs. Constant little whimperi
My thoughts were churning. So much was going on so fast that I couldn't keep track. And what did Jared just call my mate. Did he say Silver Wolf? As in, the Silver Wolf?The craziest, most terrifying and powerful Lycan in the whole Simmerian Forest that was said to be the son of the most cruel and bloodthirsty alpha to ever walk the planet. An alpha that went around annexing packs and putting their young through the most brutal and barbarous training of which five out of six failed to survive. Rumors had it he killed his father, the Alpha, at the tender age of sixteen. An alpha that was then known as the Bogeyman to all werewolves. It was also said that due to their harsh childhood, Silver Wolf, also less commonly known as Terren Blood, and his lieutenants had a tendency to go feral in fights and almost no one who goes against them in a fight lives to tell the tale. Though his pack was nowhere near as large mine, it was widely acknowledged that the Silvermoon Pack was the strongest in
A large, warm hand gently squeezes my hand, intertwining with my fingers. Sparks flew from my hands into my arms and I gasped and jerked. Still though, I keep my head down. I don't want to see the eyes of an Alpha with my eyes. They are so challenging and scary. So dominating they could strip you of your your own will with but a mere glance. Call me weak, I don't mind, but they usually are. "Look at me, Lisandra," he whispers to me, a softly spoken command, but a command nonetheless. It makes me whimper. By the Moon Goddess above, that voice is amazing! But I still don't look up. It's too scary to see the beautiful eyes that shared an owner with that lovely voice. "Lisandra, look at me." I feel the slide of his fingers under my chin and they lift my head up at an angle to meet his eyes. My light blue eyes meet his dark blue ones. They light up when they stare at me, and a little smile crosses my face. His eyes seemed to shine with an happiness that I had never seen before
TWO WEEKS LATER ...I rarely came out of my room. When I did, it was at night to run through the forest in beast form. Since I mated, I desired my wolf form more often. When the sun set, I released my animal to run and sleep in the woods of the territory, a territory I now viewed as mine since I had marked all of my favorite spots and grew accustomed to the other scents, those of my new pack mates. I had explored every inch of the property and it was beautiful, a combination of vast woodlands for the beast and quaint suburban comforts for the man.Curious about the other wolves, my nature urged me to rejoin the pack. I refused to see anyone, but meals were delivered to my bedroom door three times a day. They went untouched because I hunted for meals in my wolf form, just enough to survive as I didn’t have an appetite. I didn’t reject the meals because I thought something was wrong with them. I was just pissed about being chained. Or at least I fancied myself being pissed. These days I
LisandraThe floorboards give way to each step I take, soft squeaks of protest filling the room. My bare feet move quickly across the floor and I wince as I hear an abnormally loud creak come from beneath me. Although the packhouse is large and modern, in many ways it’s equally as old. The appliances and plumbing are updated regularly yet most any other update is specifically cosmetic. I know without a doubt, with a bit of love and care, that the packhouse could make a warm and inviting home. As it stands, it’s cold and sends chills down my spine for an entirely different reason. Biting my lip and with the utmost care so as to not step on splinters, I make my way to the other side of my room and manage to reach the window. Holding my breath, I brace myself and pull it upwards with all the strength I can muster. As it slides up with a shuffling noise, it takes everything I have not to let out a delighted squeal. The damn thing is usually so stuck that I rarely get it open once a mont
He is here.There I was in the packhouse's main living room, in a small, tight corner on what had to be the most uncomfortable piece of furniture I had the misfortune call my seat, trying to appear small so as not to attract attention to myself- nothing good ever comes from being the subject of scrutiny, especially when you happen to be the most hated orphan in your pack- when he comes in. The bane of my existence. My Lord and Master. The one to enter was the Alpha of my pack, the Redstone pack, one of the largest packs in the whole of North America and with one of the largest and most expansive of territories. It numbered in the thousands, a little over four thousand Lycans, give or take a few hundred. It's territory spanned about a fifth of the whole Simmerian Forest, which was larger than the Tongass National Forest, as it had about two hundred and twenty four million acres of land. Wolves of the Redwood pack might more often than not be an arrogant lot, but they had a right to
TerrenI was hungryHungry to free my wolf that is. For six god-damned days I have been in the city, encased in a steel-and-glass building sixteen hours at a time with nothing but concrete under my feet, day and night. I desperately needed to fill my lungs with the scent of warm earth, sweet pine, and rich, verdant life if I was to sustain whatever remained of my sanity.I needed to run with my wolves and lead them on a kill. To feel flesh part under my claws, for raw meat to give beneath my fangs. The insistent pressure between my thighs and the shimmer of pheromones coating my skin also kept reminding me of another critical need I was neglecting, a need that is not so readily satisfied. It was much too risky. I’d gone too long without sexual release, but I can't risk even a nice good old tumble in the sheets, all sweaty, steamy and oh so satisfying with a willing female when my wolf seemed insistent on claiming a mate. That is not something I am going to ever do. Why the hell doe