Entangled

++ Chapter One ++

Hello there! 

So, this is my first werewolf story! I always wanted to write one but could never seem to get started. There's already so many werewolf stories out there but I really wanted mine to be unique. I hope I succeeded. :)

On the side is a picture of Harmony ---->

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Entangled

Chapter One

(Harmony’s POV)

Four years.

Four years ago, I had fled from my home. Four years ago, I had run away from him and my feelings.

Those four years had not erased him from my memory. I still recalled the heat of his touch and the tender brush of his lips against my skin.

Ryan.

I rubbed my hands over my bare arms chilled by the winter night. As I thought of him, my hands became the intimate, loving caress of Ryan’s. The memory weakened me and stirred desire to return to him. I cursed, breaking the silence of the cemetery. It was impossible to escape my feelings and my intense caving for him. No matter how far I ran.

I stood on the stone sarcophagus in the centre of the cemetery, a breeze washing over my skin. Darkness stretched in front of me, and bright moonlight-cast shadows stretched long from the trees, swallowing the graves that edged the crammed lot. My target lay dead below me. One less werewolf in the world. In human form and naked, his body was bloodied and beaten from our fight. Lifeless eyes stared up at the moon. The recovery unit would be here soon to take away the body. I hated having to wait for them. With the hunt over, I had nothing to occupy my mind. My purposelessness ate at me, opening up a hollow feeling inside me. It attacked the carefully constructed barriers around my heart and brought thoughts of Ryan. My gaze rose to the moon. I sought the calm it normally inspired in me. My black pistols weighed heavily by my sides tonight; loaded with silver bullets.

I pressed a hand to my chest.

The beast stirred in the depths of my heart and snarled for freedom. Ryan had warned me that it would once I had matured. Back then, I hadn’t believed him. I had run.

The idea of housing a werewolf in my body frightened me. When my beast had risen, it had redefined the word ‘frightened’. I had been so scared that I had almost run back to Ryan. He had been right. My blood was werewolf, just as his, but that didn’t mean that I was going to let it control me. I would never change.

I was not an animal.

And I would not surrender to it. Every day of my life, I fought it and hid my dirty secret. Every day of my life, I hunted my kin.

My father was the founder of the Werewolf Control Forces. They hunted down werewolves who disobeyed the rules. Werewolves have rules; you don’t know how much I laughed when my dad first told me that. Mostly though, they just hunted down rogue werewolves. My dad had started The Forces after my mom had been brutally murdered by a rogue. My sister and I were the most protected humans by werewolves. Somehow though, my sister was still murdered. A rogue had attacked us and our protector (and best friend) saved me but was too late to save my sister. I didn’t blame him. But I wanted revenge and after some convincing my dad offered to train me. I gladly took the opportunity. I had started training when I was eight-years-old. Back then, I hadn’t known what tainted blood ran through my veins.

At the age of sixteen, when I had finally reached the level of a hunter, I had met Ryan. He had come to my unit and reported a rogue werewolf within his pack. Even though I knew what Ryan was, I hadn’t been able to stop my feelings for him. He was everything good and, over time, I had come to see that not all werewolves were out to kill humans. It was only then that I had discovered I carried werewolf blood in my veins. If I had known about the genes I had inherited from my mother before I had joined the Werewolf Control Forces, I still would have gone through with it. Eliminating the rogue werewolves, those that turned dangerous and had made it onto the WCF’s list, gave me purpose.