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It was a beautiful morning to wake up to. The rain was pounding the rooftops, lightning was flashing left and right, and thunder rumbled every few minutes like my stomach ......
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when I hadn't tasted blood in a long time. Not just any blood though, the blood of those who betrayed me, my enemies.
It was why some called me cruel and insane, but in my eyes, I saw a realistic and practical wolf.
We lived in a world where those who have the hunger have the most power. I hungered to have complete control over my kind, to be the one who led them to victorious pursuits around the world.
That hunger hasn't died. It has continued to rumble in my stomach, and no food or blood will ever satiate it.
Until the werewolf species had flourished to their full potential, I was not going to stand still. I would fight until the Moon Goddess granted me my last breath.
I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt back up and started walking back to the house, relishing in the raindrops that soaked through the thin cloth and pierced my skin with their iciness. The best kind of rain was the kind that hurt. It was like having a reality check or a sudden epiphany. When I reached the back door, I could hear my cooks running around frantically, trying to get my breakfast set up before I sat down at the table. They knew I was picky about waiting for my food. I decided to give them a few more seconds before I stepped through the door because I knew they wouldn't be able to function properly when I did enter.
They would be too busy trembling with fear. Their goal was to avoid me at all costs, dropping the food off and running, which is what they did.
When I finally stepped in after having some mercy on them, it was quiet and no wolf was in my line of vision.
I walked across the silent kitchen calmly and sat down at the table, eyeing all the food in front of me with a blank expression.
