Another Life, Another Me

Special: Price of Blood (Part 1)

A/N: So, just like all the other specials, this is going to be a pretty dark ride! This will be the start of Wolfe's backstory and will be pretty long. I'm probably going to split the whole special into three parts or something~

Don't read the next sentence if you don't want any spoilers, but, just in case, I put a warning for what this special will have.

For this special, expect a lot of depression, mental illnesses, heavy child abuse, and basically a whole train wreck of stuff! I warned you ahead of time...

Please enjoy this chapter though!

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Wolfeskikblokasretinhas juin Drakon ilun Escallopinuous Foxitilium le Roi's POV

My father was a strong king.

He was a werewolf with dozens, if not more, long deep scars over his body that proved his strength and battle prowess.

A werewolf.

This meant that during the day, he seemed nothing more than a physically capable man.

But under the moonlight, he would become a beast—his skin transforming into tough hide and thick, sharp fur while the rest of his body warped into that of a fearsome wolf.

My mother was also a werewolf.

Albeit she wasn't as powerful as others, she was strikingly beautiful with her long flowing red hair and her eyes that nearly dripped of honey.

They were the king and queen of Macrog, the country of demons, devils, and all evils.

When I was born, there didn't seem to be much wrong.

I was a healthy young boy who took after his mother's appearance, having both her red hair and golden-honey eyes.

My father, the king, in his joy of being able to conceive a boy on the first try, granted me the name of Wolfeskikblokasretinhas, which meant "sharp-eyed wolf" or "intuitive wolf" in the ancient language.

I have no idea why I had been given such a name, but it wasn't like I had a choice in such a matter.

Then there was the customary ceremony in which my green eyes would be granted to me.

Green eyes were not hereditary.

They were a curse.

After a king or queen births a child, they had exactly one year to grant their child green eyes through a ritual before the king or queen died from a heart attack.

Their death would then prompt their child to receive green eyes, which meant, either way, the child was going to get green eyes whether their parents died or not.

But this was closely guarded information that was only known to the royal family and close confidants.

Thus, my father bestowed green eyes upon me without too much hesitation.

It wasn't too difficult really.

All that was left for me to grow up as a fine werewolf worthy of the title of the crown prince of demons.

But instead of growing as a werewolf, I grew up as a healthy vampire.

Which could only mean that my mother had committed infidelity.

How could a vampire be born from two nearly-pureblood werewolves otherwise?

I could only have been an illegitimate son.