Prologue

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Her eyes dance with the clouds as she lays still on the now wet ground. Her clothes are also wet because of it but the cold she felt from earlier is now gone. Grey picturesque with small white objects falling down slowly, covering everything in their pure color.

'Such a beautiful sight,' she thought.

The numb feeling of nothingness kicks in as the pain now subsides. Aisling couldn't feel anything, not even the pain from her heart which was burning earlier. Her tear-stained face that's been frozen due to the temperature had stopped her crying from the pain that the mark he put before. The mark that he left. The mark of shame.

Rejected.

No words were exchanged during the process. Just a single slash from the neck, to where your Mate should have put his claiming mark, a proof of his acceptance, a proof of his love. Proof that he had finally changed for her. But that was all her wishful thinking.

She thought that they can finally finish the Claiming Ceremony. That he can finally change, that he picks her—his Mate, among all of those females and males that he plays with.

She was wrong.

Instead of completing their Claiming Ceremony, instead of telling her his words of "sorry", that she can finally see him in his vulnerable state, that he'll beg--no. Instead, he took her to a secluded place far away from their small village. Vulcan, her Mate, tells her his final words before slashing the right side of her neck down to her shoulder.

At that moment, the rush of feeling sick to her being had gotten to her that she even felt nauseous. That she felt all of the feelings that she had been trying to hide. The feelings whenever he is with another female or male.

Unwanted. Undesirable. Disgusting. Despicable. Ugly. Unpleasant. Horrendous. Repulsive. Vile. Those were the words poured into her head as the long gash of the rejection mark had been put.

"This is for the best." That was what he said before doing what he did.

Those five words were what made her feel numb from the piercing of her skin made by his nail, but the pain of the process of the rejection is what broke her.

Coughing for the fifth time, she again let the blood flow from the outside of her mouth. Rejection is a horrible process for every Mate, yet not all who have one tells that tale of love and she is one of them.

Stronger creatures are drawn to power. They lust for it, crave it, and not everyone can have it.

Just like her, a sorry excuse towards her kind--Lycanthrope. They are the ones who believe in strong justice and yet they are prideful of their strength. They were born to help the weak but they ostracize their own.

She is born a pure-blooded Lycanthrope, yet she has the strength of a werewolf. They are their kinds' other brothers and sisters who are not on par with their strength. Werewolves are considered the weaker version of themselves.

Aisling remembered the story of how they were created. Of how everything had come to this, the strength between Lycanthrope and Werewolves.

It all began when strife with the fairies, dwarves, and other lesser beings, between these creatures that were named the Shadowless, started.

These creatures were made from Chaos, an unknown god who had brought misery to their world. Through his blood, these creatures were created and then abandoned at the same time. And because of this that the peaceful world that Gaia had created went into havoc.

War ensued between all creatures that were created by the gods. But the creatures that were created by Gaia, Atargatis, Moradin, and the others were slowly being killed by these tumultuous creatures.

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