Tara’s P.o.v: I stumbled into the cottage, each step heavier than the last. My legs quivering from the punishing combat drills, my arms screaming in protest at even the slightest movement. The door creaked as it closed behind me, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness of the night. I leaned against the sturdy wooden frame, allowing myself a r moment of vulnerability, and exhale a shuddering breath.The warmth of the cottage greets me, though it does little to soothe the storm raging within. My fingers tremble as I peeled off the sweat-soaked, dirt-streaked clothing clinging to my body. The day’s training was brutal, yet it paled in comparison to the shocking revelation that had emerged in the clearing: fire. Raw, uncontrollable fire that erupted from my hands with a fierce, primal hunger. I felt its heat, saw its searing glow, but now, as I stand here, the memory feels distant, almost unreal.“What the hell is happening to me?” I whisper into the quiet room, nearly expecting som
We’ve all read them right? Those sappy romance novels, the ones where some handsome stranger rescues the damsel in distress. He’s wealthy like no other and adores the ground she walks on.There’s some life altering event, a struggle of some kind but it gets resolved and they live happily ever after.As cute as they are, and as much as those kind of books can distract you from whatever is going on, that’s just not how life works. Your daily tasks are boring as hell, you have to work your ass off with very little to show for it and if life throws you a curve ball it’s usually not some handsome prince but rather more issues to take care of.Real life just isn’t a fairytale and monsters aren’t real. ... ... Or at least not in the fairytale sense of the word anyway.That being said, let me introduce myself;My name is Tara, 26 years old and pretty much a plain Jane.Although I’m relatively tall for a girl, about 5.9 without heels, I’m nothing special to look at, not thick, not thin but so
Chapter two:The Dense trees loom overhead and the air carries a damp, earthy scent.As I rush deeper and deeper into the woods, a sense of unease creeps up my spine. The towering trees cast long, eerie shadows that dance and sway with the gentle breeze. Each rustle of leaves or snap of a twig sends shivers down my spine, making me hyper-aware of my surroundings.The path ahead is uneven, covered in fallen leaves and overgrown vegetation. I stumble occasionally, my shoes sinking into the muddy ground making it harder and harder to keep the pace I set when I started my track through these woods. The silence is unsettling, broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl or the distant caw of a crow.Every step forward feels like a test of my courage, my mind conjuring up all sorts of unknown dangers lurking in the shadows. I feel like I’m being watched, which is absolutely absurd, no one ever ventures out here. It’s part of the reason I nearly begged our local realtor to find out who owned
The morning continues on the way it always does.The same people coming in around the same time, ordering mostly the same things time and time again, so I’m taking the orders, serving the food, pouring cups of coffee, wiping down counters, cleaning up tables, mundane and repetitive, nothing has changed. By the time 10am rolls around the diner has quieted down to just 3 elderly gentlemen sipping coffee and eating apple pie while talking about their glory days, what-ever a neighbor did or said recently and expressing how the whole world is going to hell, based on a half read article in the newspaper.Knowing it wont get any busier until around noon I walk over to Linda and ask if it’s ok to take slightly longer break than usual. With my truck out of commission I’ll have to walk over to the repair shop and hope Joe or mister Jackson, who owns the garage, is willing to drive out to my place and tow the truck into town for repairs.Maybe I should ask her if I can work the evening shift as
I can’t believe mister Jackson refuses to check out back, there is absolutely no way that was just an echo, there’s no way the sound of a tv could carry in a way that it sounds like there’s a battle going on just outside the door I was standing at, even if he had the windows open and the volume at it’s maximum, it just can not be, the shouting, the cussing, the sound of that angry dog, that was undoubtedly real and it was close!The firm grip on my shoulder made it almost painfully obvious he didn’t want me to know what was going on, if it really had been his TV, he wouldn’t have had such a firm grip on me, he wouldn’t almost have dragged me away, would he? Maybe he’s hosting illegal dogfights, I think to myself, could that be the reason he’s trying to make absolutely sure I am kept away from the back of the garage?I’ve been in his office for at least 20 minutes now, being asked all kinds of questions about the make and model of my truck, what’s wrong with it, if I had done any mainte
Jack’s P.O.V.I can’t believe it, for the past five years, the young woman that served me my breakfast with a kind smile, is the one we’ve been searching for.In all honesty, most of us gave up hope about a year after she disappeared, Christian never did though, he kept searching, convinced she was out there somewhere. He put us all at risk by leaving, especially for so long, but I understand, I would’ve torn the world apart had this happened to me, unfortunately not everyone is so forgiving. After we took up residence in the abandoned human town, we all did our best to create a life for ourselves. I think deep down we all still long for the home we lost and that’s why nothing ever really got updated, still believing this is just temporary. Years came and went and eventually, a lot of our people just packed up and left, a few humans moved in, mostly drifters and outcasts, though they usually leave relatively quick, a year, maybe two before they realize that this place will never be an
Tara’s p.o.v.I know I should probably eat something, but with the way I’m feeling I lost all desire. Hoping my favorite streaming service will take my mind off of today’s strange events, I settle on the on the sofa and wrap myself up in the soft comfortable blanket that I always drape over the back of the cushions. Scrolling through all the different movies, series and documentaries, nothing catches my eye and with the yearning to be outside growing, I just can’t seem to wind down. With a sigh I untie myself from the fluffy fabric, maybe a nice hot shower will do the trick. The bathroom is simple but functional. White subway-style tiles line the walls all the way up to the ceiling, a simple glass shower wall and a dark oak vanity with a wash basin on top, a plain white toilet bowl and just a single ceiling lamp, nothing to boast about, the water pressure is really good though, so the small showerhead usually does the trick of relaxing my tight muscles just fine, but not tonight. Wit
** authors note Okt. 20th 2023: dea readers, I have rewritten chapter 6 and added parts that will be absolutely crucial to the story line, if you’ve already read chapter six, please re-read it before starting chapter 7. My apologies for the inconvenience**Tara’s P.o.v. Did I really just dream that whole thing, did I actually fall asleep on the sofa last night and have my mind just conjure up the entire part of barely sleeping, the walk, that strange voice that came from seemingly nowhere and the horror that ensued after? It would explain why I thought I saw a black bear further south than those animals have ever been reported and why I heard that voice without anyone being near,… it doesn’t explain the splitting headache or how bruised my back feels though. Maybe I hit my head too hard when I fell and this is actually the delusion, that would make some sense, but then again, the whole thing in the woods is just too weird to be real, heck, even mister Mason giving me the day off
Tara’s P.o.v: I stumbled into the cottage, each step heavier than the last. My legs quivering from the punishing combat drills, my arms screaming in protest at even the slightest movement. The door creaked as it closed behind me, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness of the night. I leaned against the sturdy wooden frame, allowing myself a r moment of vulnerability, and exhale a shuddering breath.The warmth of the cottage greets me, though it does little to soothe the storm raging within. My fingers tremble as I peeled off the sweat-soaked, dirt-streaked clothing clinging to my body. The day’s training was brutal, yet it paled in comparison to the shocking revelation that had emerged in the clearing: fire. Raw, uncontrollable fire that erupted from my hands with a fierce, primal hunger. I felt its heat, saw its searing glow, but now, as I stand here, the memory feels distant, almost unreal.“What the hell is happening to me?” I whisper into the quiet room, nearly expecting som
Sam’s p.o.v.The morning light slices through the trees, golden and unforgiving. I’m standing in the center of the clearing, arms crossed, waiting and watching as Tara trudges into view. Her steps are slower today, heavier. The exhaustion from yesterday’s training obviously lingering in the tightness of her movements and the slump of her shoulders. Still, there’s that familiar fire in her eyes as she looks up towards me, like a glimmer of stubborn resolve that refusing to be extinguished.Good. She’s going to need every ounce of that stubbornness for what’s coming.I’ve seen my share of battles, but even if only half of what Linda told me will come to be, it’s going to be a suicide mission if she’s not ready.“Tara,” I called, tossing her weighted gauntlets. She caught them, though the force of the throw made her stagger a bit, her muscles must be sore. “Today, we focus on endurance.”She stared at the gauntlets, then at me. She wisely keeps any protests herself, though I saw a flicke
Christians P.O.V. The scent of blood and fear is absolutely suffocating. It clings to the humid air, mingling with the metallic tang of rust and despair. As I stumble forward, my shackled hands aching from the rough silver chains are biting into my wrists, I’m unsure of what’s awaiting me, but I’m certain it won’t be anything good. The sheer cacophony of smells that bombards my nose is sickening.The two guards flanking me are humans, wearing smug expressions and carrying cattle prods like they’re some kind of medieval wardens. They don’t say much, just the occasional grunt or barked command to keep me moving. The electric collar around my neck buzzing faintly is a constant reminder of my own stupidity. Every step I take feels heavier than the last, but I refuse to give them the satisfaction of seeing me falter.They drag me through the barren lands that used to be a green oasis, the place we called home once, when high floodlights buzz to life overhead and blind me for a second or t
Linda’s P.o.v. I look at Tara standing at the edge of the clearing, her breath visible in the crisp morning air. Before her, Sam pacing like the restless predator he is, that boy has never been one to stay in one place for too long, what kept him here till now.. I’m guessing it’s fate and this moment right here. No one can prepare our dear Tara for what’s to come the way he can. I’m not entirely sure what his life looked like in the years after the raid, but from what little snippets the Goddess has shown me, it was a hard life. His gaze is sharp and assessing. Watching from the shadows, I breathe deeply. I saw the fire flash in her eyes again during yesterday’s training, the images that came to me during the night burned just as bright, I finally understand why her family tree has missing pieces, why no one ever wrote down exactly who started her bloodline from both sides of the family. Folding my hands neatly in front of me I try to calm my demeanor to hide the weight of
The first rays of dawn spilled over the horizon, casting a golden light on the clearing behind the cottage. Sam stood in the middle, his arms crossed, a no-nonsense expression on his face and I am stood opposite him, sweat already dampening my clothes despite the cool morning air.“This isn’t going to be easy,” Sam said, his voice hard. “If you want to save your father, you’re going to have to push past every limit you think you have. Your strength, your endurance, your mind—it all has to sharpen. The bastards that have Christian won’t go easy on you, and neither will I.”I clenched my fists, I had been in a brawl or two in high school, I knew how to throw a punch. “I’m ready.” I said determined.He smirked, the scar on his face creating a hauntingly eerie grimace, the fact that the smile didn’t reach his eyes adding to the overall menacing look. “We’ll see.”The first exercise was deceptively simple: running. But not just any running. Sam led me up steep hills, through dense forests,
Tara’s p.o.v:I sat down cross-legged on the floor, I don’t know what the hell is going on but there’s no way I’m sitting within an arms-reach of any of them.The morning sun streaming through the open windows. A soft breeze rustling the leaves outside, carrying with it the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers. It should have been peaceful, but the weight of uncertainty has me on edge.Sam looks down at me on the ground, his usual gruff demeanor softened slightly. From the inside pocket of his black jacket he pulls out an old leather-bound notebook, its cover cracked and faded from time and crouches down beside me, his intense eyes boring into mine.“Tara,” he begins, his voice low, “it’s time you knew the truth. About you. About the boundary.”My brows furrowed. “The boundary? What do you mean? You’re guys crossed every single personal boundary barging in here, what the hell do you mean boundaries?” I snap back frustrated.Sam’s lips quirked, though there was no humor in it. “If
Christian’s P.O.V.A sharp pinch in my neck baffled me for a second but the moment my limbs refused to obey me, I knew I’d underestimated them. The tranquilizer burned through my veins, a cruel mockery of the power I once wielded. Everything blurred—the trees, the stars overhead, the forest floor rushing up to meet me. They’d been waiting, watching, and I’d walked right into their trap.The first thing I noticed upon waking was the cold. The chill seeped through the rough stone beneath me, biting even through my clothes. My wrists and ankles were bound with silver chains, their malevolent energy sapping my strength and keeping my wolf suppressed. The room smelled of damp stone, mildew, and faintly of iron. A dungeon. Of course, they’d put me in a dungeon."He’s awake," a gravelly voice remarked, somewhere in the shadows. Footsteps approached, heavy and deliberate. When the figure finally emerged into the dim light of the single flickering bulb above me, I recognized him immediately. Jo
Christian’s p.o.v.Pain sears through my paw, the bite of metal on bone excruciating, I know pulling will only make it worse, but my animal side is in full panic mode and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get him to submit. Having hands would sure make this a whole lot easier, but shifting now will definitely cause more damage, I’d probably lose my hand entirely in the process.The crunch of boots on fallen leaves takes my animals terror up another notch, he’s snarling, biting at our paw and the clamp that’s tightly closed around it, blood gushes from the wound, but the adrenaline seems to be blocking out most of the pain for now, from the corner of my eye I can see the gleam of weapons, probably silver and I’m certain my luck has run out, fear grips my heart as the reality sets in, I’ve been captured. Big rough hands grab the scruff of my neck, pushing my nose deep into the mud. All I can smell is blood and damp earth, but judging by the size of the hands and the strength he’s usin
Linda’s P.o.v.There’s an unease in the air, thick and suffocating, I can almost see it vibrating, much like the rising heat that’s visible above the asphalted roads on a hot summers-day. Although I have never been able to shift, the wolf gene that’s encoded deep within my blood feels as if it’s bristled, hackles raised and ready to attack.I have tried every single ritual I can think of, from breathing exercises to full on spell work, just to get a premonition on what’s about to happen, but to no avail.Frustrated I throw the bowl of moon water against the wall, shattering the intricate glasswork into a thousand little colorful pieces, sunlight peeking through the old wooden shutters hits the shards and creates a kaleidoscope of miniature rainbows on the cream colored walls of my little personal shrine.I would’ve called it a beautiful sight had I not been so incredibly on edge.Just as I reluctantly grab my broom to clean up the mess I made, the door to my sanctuary is flung open a