Forbidden |ONC 2020|

Chapter One

Keithia:

The large wolf reared her head, shaggy mane framing her silver eyes. The creature was mystical, unbelievable almost. 

"Shall we go, sister?" Keithia said, gripping the reins tighter. Brushing her dark navy hair back, Keithia settled in the saddle, feeling powerful tendons and muscles coil under the thin saddle. Unlike the thick-headed Capulets, we made sure to have our vessels as comfortable as possible. And it was common knowledge that no matter what you did, the wolf always stayed wild and free, an untamable beast. Power swept through Keithia, fleeting but addictive. Montagues were infinitely better than the Capulets and always had been. No matter how much they denied it. 

Keithia inhaled, frowning slightly at the new scent. It was dark, musty, and made her head spin with pain. It was faint but the scent was prominent. Whatever created it must be powerful. Shifting slightly, Keithia snapped the reins silently and the wolf shot off into the early morning, melding into the fading shadows. The Montague square was deserted, devoid of noise and life. Good. Even though all the residents of the town were distantly related, it didn't command respect. It was like a tier, depending on how much of the werewolf blood the Goddess Lune had granted. There were Crescents, Halves, and Fulls, like Keithia herself. Crescents were gifted a fourth of werewolf blood and so on for Halves and Fulls. The Fulls were part of the Elite court and usually took up the position as the de facto monarchs of the Montague. Keithia's father was one of those men who had so graciously taken the position and was now one of the ruling fathers. 

The forest was smothered with fog as always but it felt... off today. Like a warning. The wolf seemed to sense it too from her wary behavior. Keithia had always ridden this specific wolf and nothing had made it this afraid. Maybe there was something else, Keithia thought as she slowed the anxious creature down. Keithia ran her hand through the rough fur, scratching her scruff as she peered into the darkness. What could it be? She had never felt a sensation such as this and it made her want to run back. But Montagues never ran: they fought and confronted their fear. It was the only way to get rid of the paralysis of fear. 

"Come on, sister. We are Montagues. Whatever is here it will not cause a problem for us." Keithia growled, full of conviction. Confident mask, trembling inside. But Keithia has perfected her cold exterior for years and she wasn't going to let it crack now. The wolf loped around the perimeter, never straying too far from Keithia. Hisses surrounded her and Keithia whipped around, sword slashing the thick, moist air. 

"Fight with pride. I know you're there." Keithia taunted, clutching the silver sword closer. If it was a Capulet then she had nothing to worry about. An ancient bond said that without true reason the clans may not kill and whenever Keithia saw a disgusting Capulet her hands visibly twitched, desperate to snap the vampire's neck. Another sound drew Keithia back to the situation and she crept closer, feeling more power with every step. She was Montague. She was unstoppable. Nothing could defeat her.

A curious odor wafted past her and instinctively, Keithia sniffed the air. The smell grew more potent as Keithia followed. Her feet moved on its own, drawn in by the peculiar smell. She had never smelled anything like it before. Soon the smell had led her to the graveyard, where Orion had been buried. Her heart ripped a little and Keithia cursed. Just when she thought she had sewn herself back together after the death of Orion he had to come and tear it apart once more. She had loved Orion since she had met him in the rose garden. She pricked her finger and had cried silently in the corner, hoping her mother or father wouldn't see. Orion had then pierced his finger and sat next to her, and together they watched as the crimson blood dripped down their tiny fingers. Somewhat gruesome but it was there that Keithia realized her feelings for him. Until the Capulet had come and stolen him, whisked him to a place of fantasy. Keithia cursed at the feelings swirling up inside of her. Orion had a choice: his family, his pack, or a Capulet. And he chose the wrong answer. There was no love for him in her heart anymore. Or so she thought.