Prologue
The making of werewolves would seem to be a delicate thing, as it would for any being of that matter. Though when mistakes happen in a delicate process, it can be beyond detrimental.
When the first full moon blossomed in the eerie sky, it dawned the birth of the werewolves, blessed by the moon goddess herself. Though when that same full moon abrubtly became glazed with a crimson red, a whole new creature was birthed. If you could even call it a creature.
A creature who's form dominated that of regular werewolf. It almost seemed feral, mutated even, and too savage. It's absurdly large size was uncanny, teeth filed, pads of feet like stone, a body seething with untamed power, and a heart written to slaughter. It is godlike, or should I say devil like.
This monster of shear horror couldn't have been blessed the same by the moon goddess, instead cursed, that whoever was the mate of the beast, the bond would be heightened ten fold, so that the warm pulsating emotions felt with a mate bond would almost be unbearable. Thus leading to a mate rejection, or at worst, the taking of the mates own life due to the overdrive.
Throughout the ages, after the birth of the werewolf kind, the history of this blood moon beast became nothing more than folklore told to pups. For if it was anything other than being just a frightening story, it would be too supernatural (how ironic I know).
While the gory stories kept being told of this devil wolf's unrelentless slaughtering of men, women, and children alike, the ages brought us to Damara Badini.
Damara, a troubled female werewolf, whose been purposely abandoned by her "oh so loving" parents. Forced to live on her own in her pack's village, surrounded by degrading people, and a complicated love relationship with several male characters. Though only one is her mate.
Because Damara has a pile high list of insecurities from what life's thrown at her, she has a side to her that may be as dark as the devil wolf's. Shall we let fate take its course?
