Round1✔ - Ambassadors' Pick
Round2✔
Longlist✔
Shortlist✔
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Genre: fantasy, romance, and a teeny tiny bit of action.
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Of a Moon, majestic silver and soothing blue, that hung in the sky, breathing life into barrenness and lifting...
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Synopsis:
Pain.
That was all Ashelia knew while growing up - pain.
The only person holding her together was her mother and her tales of the fallen moon and its big, black wolf.
So, when her sweet, loving mother is gone, no one is left to hold off the monsters from taking their sweet time torturing a child who couldn't fight back.
No one. Nothing.
Not until Ashelia finds herself on the run again with blood and ashes on her hands and a beast within her craving blood.
Join Ashelia on her journey as she learns to awaken the dormant beast inside, control her powers, and unravel the past, the reason why things had to go the way they did.
Chapter One:
A feathery touch glided like tickling droplets of water through silky flames of tangled strands.
Soft breaths caressed the mother's neck, a child snuggling hard against her side, head pressed tight against irreplaceable comfort. The mother hummed, gentle whispers and soothing caresses offering a blanket of warmth and a bubble of protection.
Quivering inhales tugged at her heart as the child whimpered faintly. Bruised knuckles wiped away at treacherous laments that dared escape ice-blue eyes.
A few heartbeats of silence passed before the woman settled back against the wooden pole behind her.
"Once upon a time, my dear, there was a princess that lived far, far away with her family. Happy, secure, and loved."
The kid's eyes fluttered open, drowsy but intrigued, as their attention was poked. "Mama, what is a princess?"
The mother chuckled, biting down on her bottom lip to prevent groans of pain from escaping. "A princess is a very beautiful girl. The same as you, my baby."
The look of adoration that spread across her face was quickly wiped away when the little girl pouted, her lips trembling. "Father says I am a boy. He always cuts my hair." Pudgy fingers stroked short fiery strands. "He ruins my pretty hair, Mama."
The rope tugged harshly against tender wrists as she reached higher to stroke her daughter's head but was unable to. Instead, numb cheeks rubbed against sticky ones as she cooed. "Oh, little one...It's pretty still."
"I hate father, Mama," she muttered. Even the child knew better than to say that out loud.
"As do I, Ash."
Tiny fingers framed the woman's face, noting the look of resignation, one she wore often. "Mama, the princess."
Swallowing down the lump that had formed in her constricted throat, her busted lips started moving. "She was the pride of her parents. The moon to their sun. Bright and warm when darkness wanted to take over. She shone and chased it away. The princess had a little sister-"
