Aralyn's POV
My story began with love between Malleteagan and Larissa, my parents, which somehow evolved into a never-ending hatred and Malleteagan’s desire for death. Mine death and that of my mother. It is a dark, misty night. Mid-autumn rain sticks on my dirty and torn clothes, mixing with mud, leaves, and branches we picked up while grazing through the forest. Brushes, stems, and trees cut through my clothes and expose my skin even more. My lungs burn from exhaustion, and sweat breaks out in big lumps. I am out of breath and have difficulty picking up the pace with my mother. If she weren't holding my hand, I would fall behind. I would fall directly into the merciless jaws of our predator, Malleteagan. My mother was outsmarting him for years by running away from him and from his desire for our blood. We have been running since the day I was born. No, strike that, since the day I was conceived, as my mother told me. He was always on our tails, despite my mother being a demigod herself with few tricks up her sleeve too. Running from Malleteagan through different realms is something that I remember from my earliest childhood. He was hunting us to kill us both since the day I was born. Three days ago, he again found our hideout. We were in Amaaralva, my motherland, Soovaree’s subrealm of fallen Thessalian witches. Since then, he had been on the hunt. Now, it looks like we have come to our end. He will kill us. His neon silver eyes, cold as steel, were zoning on our hideout with pure and unmistakable hatred and fury. I think he found where we are. "Oh, Larissa!" he sang my mother's name with a peekaboo pitch of voice. Then, as he took his sweet time circling around our hideout, he laughed in maniacal fits which sent shivers down my spine: “Hey slag…you and that mistake-of-nature that clings to you will die today. It’s better to surrender peacefully!" he yelled with a sing-a-song voice that held so much grudge and menace as it rang out through desolate Amaralva. I was terrified just by the sound of his voice. I stepped on a twig in our hideout, enough to reveal our location. He was so close, and mother’s cloaking spell didn’t do much anymore as he was too powerful while she was too tired to muster the energy to reinforce the armour that cloaked us. That twig was enough for him to figure out where we were. My heart was at my feet. We started to run again. He is inches away from catching us. Then, I tripped over another twig again when I turned around to glance over to see how far is he. What an idiotic mistake I made! Why did I turn around? What is wrong with me and twigs today? At that point, not even my mother's hand that held mine managed to prevent me from stumbling and falling. That was enough for us to lose that slight advantage which we had. I saw my mother's horrified face, and I knew that meant he was there, getting closer. We fell together and started to crawl through mud and brush. We were sludgy grazed, and our clothes were ripped. My mother was crying and screaming at me while lifting me in panic and begging me to stand up and run. She then desperately shook me to stand up. And I… I just couldn't run anymore. My energy was drained. We were running away from this beast for three days and three nights. Somehow, he was always seconds away from catching us. Hell, we've been on the run since I remember. I was knackered, thirsty and famished. I have just given up. I don’t care anymore. Anything, even death, sounds better now than living as the haunted prey of a madman. "Tsk, tsk, tsk", he clicked with his tongue while cracking a demonic grin in the corner of his mouth as he approached us. The grin on his face disappeared in a split second and was replaced with disgust, rage and loathing. He looked dreadful, with no trace of humanity, mercy or pity, as he towered above us. He wanted us dead, and he will not give us quick and painless death. He wants us to suffer. That much is evident from his gaze, fuelled with hatred and disgust. My mother stood us up and pulled me behind her back to face the monster in front of herself. "I don't care what you will do to me, you cunt. But do not fucking dare to touch her!!!" He was getting closer as the threatening yell gritted through her teeth. I could smell his contempt for both of us. "She is your daughter, you twisted bastard. How can you?!" my mother screamed through tears. I was shocked and frozen in place by this revelation. I am his daughter. I am the daughter of the monster who wants to kill us. He made our lives a living nightmare, chasing and hunting us like animals. We were always on the run and frightened that he would find us. My father... He is ready to spend his last breath and beyond, if needed, to kill us both. My father hates me with every atom of his soul, as it looks like. What kind of father is that? Did I deserve that? What kind of person am I if I deserve this? What did I do to him? More importantly, what did my mother do to him to make him so full of hate and rage towards both of us? The look in his eyes tells it all-he is disgusted by us. He hates us. Why? Am I so disgusting and undeserving that even my father hates me? In mid of these dreary thoughts, his rage burst with a dreadful roar: "She is not my daughter, you trollop!!!” he snarled in one breath. “She is a misbegotten spawn. Who knows who fathered her, given that her mother is a slattern frolicker willing to spread the legs to everyone!!!” he roared with disgust written all over his face. “She is just an abomination and a reminder of how deceptive, cunning and vile your kind is. Even if she is of my flesh, she will never be my daughter as long as your putrid blood runs through her veins. And for that, I renounce her. Even if she is my blood, I will not accept this underworld mongrel of yours as my child. Ever. Do not dare to say, ever again, that this bastard spawn is mine because she is not.” he said with an indescribable amount of bile and contempt. “You know what, why am I even wasting my breath on you?” he scoffed. “Die! Both of you freaks will fucking die!” he snarled fiercely in an eerie, warlike tone. He pointed the finger at us and boomed in a bloodthirsty craze ridden roar: “You will be a reminder and warning to all those who think they can fuck around with me. Rot in hell, both of you", he rumbled as he launched himself, advancing towards us with an immeasurable speed. My mother quickly turned to me and knocked me to the chest, making me stumble again. I almost fell again whilst she whispered, with tears in her eyes, shaking and sniffling. She grabbed my head with both hands and cried, talking almost inaudibly: "Aralyn, run as fast as you can and don't look back. Promise?" I sniffled and nodded. And I ran. I could hear bones cracking in the background, and I knew he started shifting to his Lycan. Mother told me all about it. At the same time, my mother started to cast a spell to invoke the shadows from her Thessalian ancestors. I heard a thunderous clash before I ran away deep into the forest from the man for whom, to my dismay, I know now is my father. It sounded like heaven and hell were falling apart and crumbling away. It had a sound of utter and complete destruction of the world we know. Then I felt it before I heard it: earsplitting pandemonium and deafening clash, which sounded like all hell broke loose in my background.Aralyn’s POV While failing to learn from my past mistakes, I glanced back again quickly, and I saw my mother's shadows projected out of her body while my father was in his Lycan form. His Lycan looked like your worst nightmare, like the beast that came straight out of the ninth circle of the inferno. A bear-sized, massive, two-legged monster that looked like an enraged, sadistic, homicidal wolf on a hunt. His obsidian fur glistened blindingly in the hazy night as he shifted before my mother. If the reason for his shift weren't so daunting, just looking at the shine of his fur would make one mesmerised. The only light point on the deadly mass of charcoal black fur were his eyes, now radiating between neon grey and glacier white. The beast before us was truly magnificent and beautiful. Scrap that, nothing beautiful in here, I thought to myself next second when I saw his dragon-like fangs dripping foamy saliva, snarling and snapping towards mother rabidly. He looked monstrous, mur
Aralyn’s POV Suddenly, the forest was encased in dreadful, ominous silence. And then I felt it. My mother died. The only sound I could hear was my breath and his eerie footsteps as he quickly approached his next target - me. My breath, his footsteps and my faltering heartbeat, as my strength was ebbing again. I felt like I was on my deathbed, grasping for the last atoms of my being. Like a cadaver-to-be taking its last breath before demise. And then, out of nowhere, I felt my heartbeat again, rejuvenated somehow, but now it felt as if my heart was down to my heels. My heart was beating so loudly that it felt like the beat of my heart would burst my ears. And it increased every second of my desperate attempt to escape my executioner…my father. He wants me dead; that was clear as a day. That sudden surge of unknown energy crawled, slivered, and transferred into me as if giving me a new lifeline. And then it came. Darkness. A pitch-black pit that I started to fall into encompassed
Aralyn’s POV Oh fuck, forget what I said. I prefer to slowly die of starvation in the desert rather than have this beast disfigure me. That way, I would have at least a slim chance of survival. Even if I had a bit more energy to try to summon some of the mothers' power, there was no way that I could fight this Sasquatch, mammoth-sized, two-legged, wolf-like demon. Let alone the fact that I am a twelve-year-old girl on the run from the experienced, original, first Lycan king who went through centuries of training and battles. Well, Aralyn, make a death wish, say goodbye to the world, and pray that daddy dearest gives you a quick and at least somewhat painless death. I closed my eyes and expected squelching sounds, blood cracks, pain and death. I even pictured him dismembering my head from my neck with his fangs, ripping off my heart with his bare hands. Same as he did to my mum. The pain and demise were palpable. But that never happened. Instead, I heard a roar of fury in th
Where is Sentaya? She promised to cloak and protect me, and she did so for over five years. How did he find me? Did he already spot me? Shall I run? An unknown voice in my head reassured me that he could not see me because of the cloaking spell, but I was still scared shitless. My instinct told me to run. "He does not see you. Stay put. If you run, you will expose yourself with movement and your scent," the voice reassured me."Who to fuck are you?" I asked the voice."You will find out soon, when the time comes. For now, all you need to know is that you must stay put if you want to survive," the voice echoed in my mind. "Fuck, I hear voices. Am I ok, or have I gone mad?" I chuckled to myself. I glanced back to the army of carnivores. Their agenda is to find me and execute me. That much is clear. Fear rippled through my very essence and spread across my body like a plague."Are you fucking mad?! Even if they can’t see you because of the cloaking spell, they will feel your fear, so put
Aralyn's POV-Two months after the battle-"Marcellus Riggs, I hate you! Have you heard me, you motherfucker?! I hope you will live for eternity and watch everything you hold dear rot in Hell in slow and excruciating pain. You twisted piece of shit." I screamed at the top of my lungs while his face remained dreadfully expressionless.My memories drifted away back to the day of battle between Sentaya and Malleteagan and to the feeling of relief that rippled through me when Lycans were defeated, and they started to retreat.But…sense of urgency and horror replaced the relief momentarily when Hades' army started to surge into the battlefield. A whiff of massacred Lycans wafted to Hades himself. He wanted strong Lycan servants in his army, the ones of souls untouched and untainted by Sentaya and Denexus, so he could have them malleable and under his thumb with no leverage, nuisance or obstructions. And under the pecking order of Soovare underworld, Wengarthria, as the centre of hell, has
Aralyn POV-The day of the Oribus battle-***Trigger warning: scenes of physical and emotional abuse***"Where are you, little mouse? You can get out of your hole. The danger is gone."I trusted her, and that was a mistake.Well, blame me for being stupid. She warned me over five years ago that I shall trust no one. I came out and saw the absolute havoc in front of me. Hades' army came scything and harvesting everything on their way. They have picked up the corpses of fallen Lycans in front of the pissed-off Sentaya. She looked calm, but you could feel the scorching anger boiling behind lifeless pits that were her eerie eyes. I looked at the army and felt like my heartbeat had stopped entirely. I had heard stories about him when I eavesdropped on the chats between Sentaya and Denexus. Still, I never actually saw him until today. Hades' army was led by Marcellus Riggs. Rumour has it that he is Hades’ illegitimate son. He looked at me as if he saw through the cloaking spell that Senta
Aralyn’s POV ***Trigger Warning: scenes of physical violence and emotional abuse “Good morning, sunshine”, I heard a voice in close proximity before I felt water spill on me from a barrel. Silver shackles on my wrists and ankles were biting my skin viciously already. Water mixed with what smelled like wolfsbane made every inch of my tormented body sizzle and burn. The pain was unbearable. His minions laughed sinisterly. Then Marcellus came closer and grabbed my hair in a movement that felt like he was about to rip my scalp off. That tug forced me to lift my head and look straight into his face. And fuck, did he look good-that, crazy voice in my head again. What’s going on with me? I should have been mortified by the Satan that was holding my scalp in a gut-wrenching grip. Instead, I was looking at a few messy, stubborn, auburn locks which faded to a warm honey shade on their ends while they ran away from his neatly styled hair and formed almost a halo around his strong an
Aralyn’s POV ***Trigger Warning: scenes of physical violence and emotional abuse. I have the same nightmare again. It was about her. Mother. Oh Goddess, how I miss her. This nightmare seems to just be on repeat, over and over again. Every time I close my eyes, it becomes more vivid. This started to happen since I was in Wengarthria. In my nightmare, I see the fight between my parents and the moment when my… Malleteagan…rips my mother's head off and pulls her heart out. I see him eating her heart, looking at me. Then, his face morphs into Marcellus. I am trying to run away, but I can’t make it this time. He catches me, and we are in Wengartria again. His beasts torture me again in that cell. Then he stomps over me and starts to rip my limbs from my body. Finally, he decapitates me and rips my heart out. Then I hear those curse words and wake up. This happens over and over again every time as if I were in some endless Groundhog Day hell-loop. I am afraid to slee