His tone turned grave, “Did you just try to weaken me, Margaret?” Levi asked, his eyes never leaving hers. Margaret swallowed; she couldn't afford to be scared because if she did, she would appear weak and vulnerable like every other human he had encountered.“I asked you a question.” Levi’s voice grew dark, shrouding the entire room with tension and unease.Just then, the microwave timer set off, its beeping sound subtly startling Margaret. She turned to the microwave, then back at Levi. She mentally calmed herself and made herself believe she needed him and wouldn't hurt her. Then she responded, her tone calm and serene, “I didn't.” She answered curtly but firmly. She then turned away from him and proceeded to take out her food from the microwave, resisting the urge to look over her shoulders for impending danger.Once she took out the food and grabbed a spoon, she turned around to face him. “Ever since I learned about… your kind, both real and fake, I've been adding wolfsbane to m
After the declaration of the Silversmith Werewolf Hunters being part of the plan to find Nicholas, “No.” One word was Levi's response. “No.” He repeated in a low, gravelly tone confusing Margaret all the more.Margaret's eyes widened, her voice laced with frustration. “What are you saying? You can't just dismiss this plan without a reason!”“No, Margaret.” Levi countered, his tone unyielding. “You think I didn't think of that already? Leave the Silversmith hunters out of this. My answer is No.”Margaret's hands slapped against the map, her fingers splayed. “No? Why? You're not even considering—” Her brow knotted, her lips pursed. “You're being obstinate. What's driving this refusal?”Levi leaned back onto the couch, his eyes narrowing, “My way is better. And that's all you need to know.""Your way? Do you mean killing everything that crosses you? That's not a plan, Levi! You're wasting time.” Margaret's voice rose, her words tumbling out.Levi shrugged, his voice even. “It's worked s
Wednesday, 9:00 am. At a cafe.The warm sunlight cast a gentle glow over the outdoor section of the cozy cafe, where Sheila sat sipping her coffee, her eyes fixed on the screen of her phone. Her thumb scrolled mindlessly through social media updates, a habitual gesture to pass the time as she waited for her old friend to show up with her most anticipated information.Sheila's gaze drifted periodically to the street, scanning the passing crowd for Jerry's familiar face, his silver laid-back hair, his rugged posture, and his usual all-black ‘mafia-themed attire.The sound of footsteps and the clinking of cups across tables signaled the arrival of new patrons. But Sheila's attention hovered around the outdoor entrance of the cafe, her eyes locking onto every man, hoping to spot Jerry’s familiar face.Just as Sheila's patience was starting to boil over, a figure emerged from the morning bustle and stood before her table. Sheila’s gaze rose to meet a man in his mid-twenties, in an edgy but
Tom took a bite of his croissant, shutting his eyes as he began chewing on it, savoring the taste. “This is good, this deserves a tip,” he remarked.Sheila’s frustration and annoyance were simmering, and it was evident on her face as she watched Tom devour the croissant with pleasure. “You should order one for yourself,” Tom said, glancing at Sheila as he took another bite.“Are you fucking serious?” She hurled, her irritation palpable. “Tom, tell me what I need to know.” She demanded, her face stern.“Fine,” Tom said reluctantly, wiping his mouth with a napkin.“Many centuries ago,” he began. “When witches still existed and were hunted and burned alive, the town, Anavrin, was known as the Kanaan. It used to be the promised land for witches where they had fled to and was protected by a powerful sorcerer. Most of the escaped witches were also seers who saw their doom before it happened. However, it was not just this sorcerer that protected these surviving witches. The rulers and peopl
It was another crisp dawn in Nicholas's mansion, the golden rays of light from the setting sun, illuminating the mansion’s opulent facade. Kimberly, the newly crowned Beta, who also was no longer referred to as a newbie werewolf. She had now grown accustomed to the mansion's labyrinthine corridors, its inhabitants, and its daily schedule. The once-daunting estate now felt like home —a home she wished she'd grown up in and always had. Despite the hostility towards her and side talks from a few pack members, Kimberly refused to be cajoled into inferiority as she always held her head up high whenever she passed by. She was the Beta of the pack anyway.As she got out of bed and went about her morning routine, her thoughts centered on the day's training session with Alpha Nicholas. Their sessions had become a highlight of her day, pushing her limits and honing her skills. Kimberly's determination to prove herself as a worthy Beta burned brighter with each passing day.For three consecuti
Kimberly's eyes were enormous at the captivating sight of his sculpted physique, hidden beneath his usual black long-sleeved shirts. This was a side of Nicholas she had never seen —half naked and dripping wet. His rugged beauty, which even looked better without clothes on, left her awestruck. She swallowed, eyeing his chest. This man was magnificently crafted, she thought.Kimberly's gaze drifted downward, following the tiny rivulets of water as they trickled from Nicholas's face to his bare chest. Her eyes lingered, then settled on the tattoo etched into his skin – a majestic wolf, its details eerily familiar. It was the same image that adorned the portraits in the hallway, a symbol she had often wondered about. Now, seeing it on Nicholas's body, it seemed to hold a deeper significance.Kimberly's gaze roamed over Nicholas's chiseled physique - his bulky arms, defined chest, and sculpted abs. She swallowed hard, her eyes lingering a moment too long. Suddenly, his icy voice shattere
Kimberly's eyes darted around the dungeon, her heart racing with trepidation. The large, underground vault-like room had grey stone walls and a dark granite floor. Soft, golden light from modern torches illuminated the space, casting gentle but eerie shadows.The room was sparse, with only a few features breaking the simplicity. The thick, brass chains that were anchored to the floor caught her attention. But it wasn't just the chain that made her stomach churn with unease; it was the multiple grisly claw marks that marred the stones around it. Her eyes then narrowed to a circular mark that was etched into the center of the room, surrounded by intricate symbols. Similar gashes marred the walls, a testament to the transformative power that unfolded within.Across from where she stood, a sturdy, iron-reinforced door secured with electronic locks and bolts led to a narrow corridor. The air was cool and still, with a subtle calmness that belied the room's purpose. Soft, golden light from
Ignoring the utterly perplexed Kimberly whose anxiety was creeping in, Nicholas finished dressing up, his movements swift and efficient. Although he had warned her never to be in his room again, he seemed to have no problem having her there as he went about his business. Having worn his footwear, he sauntered to the long dresser table in the middle of the expensive and deluxe closet, where his watches, deodorant perfumes, and several other various fashion accessories were placed in an orderly manner. He picked up one of his perfumes and sprayed it on his clothes, then picked up another and sprayed it on his neck, behind his ears, and then under his wrists.Simultaneously, Kimberly's senses became completely overwhelmed by the intoxicating aroma of Nicholas's perfume, her werewolf senses heightened to the point where she could discern the subtlest notes of bergamot, lavender, and cedarwood.As the fragrance enveloped her, Kimberly's senses went into overdrive. Although it wasn't the f
As the dust settled, Nicholas and Levi found themselves shocked and disoriented, their eyes fixed on Kimberly with a mix of confusion and awe. With a painful groan, Levi sank his own hand into his shifted heart which was almost about to be ripped out of his chest, and he pushed it back to its original position with undeterred precision. That was the closest he'd ever been to death in his entire life, but he made sure to conceal the flicker of emotion that would have revealed it. For some unknown reasons, Kimberly had chosen to stop Nicholas, she had chosen to save Levi, and Levi was thankful for that. This reason however was subtly understood by Levi, he knew she had saved him not because she believed what he had said, it was because he knew she must be desperate for answers. And he believed that deep down in her heart, she knew that something was missing and she wanted to know what. Apparently, saving Levi's life was a one step to finding out answers—or so Levi thought. Barely re
Back then at the scene of the carnage that had unfolded before the Lightwood’s mansion. The disastrous and blood drenched battleground was a grim reminder of the atrocities committed by Levi; decimating six of Nicholas's own in cold blood. Levi, the Ultima, and ever-powerful primordial, and Nicholas, the ruthless and formidable Alpha, stood face to face, six feet from each other, their jaws clenched in unyielding determination. Their faces and clothes were battered with blood, both of their own and that of the fallen werewolves —another grim reminder of the carnage that had taken place. Their eyes blazed with a burning intensity, each one fueled by a fierce desire to take the other out, to emerge victorious in this battle of titans.And then there was Kimberly, the unseemingly powerful hybrid, whose true nature remained a mystery to all who surrounded her. She stood frozen on the mansion stairs, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief, her gaze fixed on the havoc unfolding before he
As Sheila stepped out of Hannah's front door, the warm sunlight and gentle breeze enveloped her, a stark contrast to the dark, intense emotions that was swirling within her. She took a deep breath, feeling the cool, crisp air fill her lungs, and began to make her way down the winding path that led through Hannah's beautifully manicured gardens.The vibrant flowers and lush greenery of Hannah's garden seemed to mock her, their beauty and tranquility a jarring contrast to the turmoil that raged in her heart and mind. Her eyes narrowed as she gazed out at the serene landscape, her mind still reeling from the revelations Hannah had shared.Despite her weakness and fatigue, Sheila's resolve had been reignited, her determination to destroy Kimberly burning brighter than ever. As she walked, she carefully formulated her next move, her mind racing with strategies and plans.The soft rustle of leaves and chirping of birds filled the air, a soothing melody that seemed to fuel Sheila's growing a
While Sheila was left orchestrating her next move in her mind, Hannah retreated to her sanctum, a space filled in ancient mystique. The witch room was a labyrinthine chamber, its walls lined with tall shelves that stood relentlessly under the weight of dusty tomes and mysterious artifacts. The air was heavy with the scent of old parchment and the flickering flames of white and red candles, which cast eerie shadows on the walls. In the center of the room, a sturdy wooden table stood, and on it was a simple, yet elegant, silver bowl. The bowl, crafted from a polished silver metal, seemed to glow with an ethereal light, as if it were imbued with a power of its own. Hannah's eyes gleamed with a deep understanding as she approached the table, her hands weaving intricate patterns in the air. The silence was palpable, punctuated only by the soft crackling of the candles.Her expression turned grave, her sharp eyes clouded with a mix of shock and concern. She paused, collecting her thoughts
Sheila sat up, adjusting her clothes and regaining her composure. "What is it that you want from me, Hannah?" She asked, her tone measured. Hannah's response was a laughter laced with mockery. "You?" she repeated, her eyes glinting with amusement. "What could you possibly have to offer that would be of any interest to me?”Sheila's brows furrowed, her frustration simmering just below the surface, but she refused to give Hannah the satisfaction of seeing her weakness. "What's your problem with me, then?" she demanded, her voice firm. "Why have you been making my life so goddamn difficult?"Hannah's expression turned stern, her finger wagging in reprimand. "No, no, no. You're getting ahead of yourself. Let's establish the rules here, because we're only doing this my way. I ask the questions, and you answer. Understood?" Sheila's eyes rolled heavenward, her disdain for Hannah's condescending tone clear.“Now, what brought you to Anavrin?” Hannah began."I thought you said you know every
Shortly after, the duo reappeared in another spacious sitting as if they had traveled through dimensions and arrived in another world. The strong aura and energy the magic took to transport them was so strong that it brought Sheila back to her consciousness. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open to an unfamiliar ceiling. She was disoriented, but as her gaze swept the room, memories began to resurface. She saw the elderly woman in her long, luscious grey hair, standing over her. She was chanting in a low, deep, menacing tone, words Sheila couldn't make out the language it was in.Sheila's gaze flickered around to scrutinize her surroundings. The room she found herself in was an unusually cozy, island-inspired space with vibrant colors and lush greenery. Woven bamboo furniture and colorful textiles added to the Jamaican vibe. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and the faint hint of jerk seasoning. Rows of red and white candles were burning on ornate candle stands tha
She? Who is She? Sheila's mind reeled. But before she could question the boy's words, she heard the door opposite Timmy's creak open. She felt a sudden unsettling presence approaching her from behind, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on an end. Although her senses were not as heightened as they normally were, her many years of honed instinct screamed warning that put her on immediate alert. Through the corner of her eyes, she caught a glimpse of an eerie shadow looming on the wall and drawing closer to her. She immediately turned her head to confront the presence, and her eyes locked onto the woman who had brought her to this place. But the warm, friendly face Sheila remembered had twisted into a malevolent scowl that showed utter hostility and nothing less. The woman's voice was low and menacing, uttering words that sounded like an ancient incantation. Her right hand was clenched into a fist, with her palm facing utward, as if she was conjuring some dark energy.Sheila
Sheila trailed behind the woman, navigating a desolate alleyway scarred by vibrant graffiti. The ground was littered with dirt and debris, while abandoned cars lined the streets, their rusting hulks a testament to the area's neglect. As they walked, the only sounds being the soft crunch of gravel beneath their shoes, Sheila's mind began to wander. What motivated this woman to help her? She focused her super-sensitive hearing on the woman's heartbeat, but it remained calm and steady, reassuring her that the woman's intentions seemed genuine.With renewed confidence, Sheila followed the woman as they climbed into a broad, dimly lit tunnel. The air inside was stale and musty, filled with the scent of decay. As they emerged from the tunnel, Sheila's eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, revealing a sprawling landscape of old, worn buildings. They stood in a small, rundown ghetto area, the walls of the buildings covered in a kaleidoscope of graffiti, while broken windows gaped like empty e
Sheila trudged down the rain-soaked streets of Anavrin, her eyes fixed on the Google map that was displayed on her phone screen. Her face was twisted in a scowl as she stormed her boots on the soil tracks. The acrid smell of mud and dirt, the exhaust fumes of car engines, and the musky scents of nearby alleys clung onto her nostrils like a challenge.She had been searching for what felt like hours now, and her patience was starting to wear thin. Using the I web and her miniature tech skills, and also the eyewitness’s social media accounts she had inspected, the boy who had been saved by the mysterious woman was named Timmy, and he lived somewhere in this neighborhood. As she turned a corner, her eyes scanned the street, taking in the rows of mediocre houses and apartment buildings. She briefly stopped in front of a small bakery, the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread wafting out into the street. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had skipped breakfast.Consulting her phone a