Book I of the Lost Luna Trilogy *** Skylar Nightly is a werewolf. Is she aware of it? No. All she knows is that her parents were dead and some kid had found her and given her to her adoptive family, who she's been living with for her whole life. Every month, her whole foster family, excluding her, would take business trips to River Hollows, Washington. One day, the family decides to move to River Hollows. With her life being picked up and thrown somewhere else out of nowhere, the last thing she wanted was to have more complications. But what happens when she runs into Ryan, Alpha of the River Hollows pack? And what happens when she finds out all the myths she read about were real? And that she was the Luna? *** Highest rank in werewolf: #145 12/20/16 © All Rights Reserved. Each character is of my own creation, as well as the story line. Please don't copy my story. «» ***SPOILER*** -this story actually kind of sucks so read at your own risk

Only sample chps. Annabelle finds out that she is not the real daughter of the Alpha at her werewolf pack. As the world she knows comes collapsing down, she has to hide from the Demon Lord who is determined to find her. Will the Werewolf King yield to the Demon Lord's ultimatum and give her to the enemy or will she be the cause of a looming war between the two species? More importantly, who is Belle and what does the Demon Lord want with her? Belle's meeting with the Werewolf King does not go very well, she finds him to be an arrogant bastard! Worse still, he wants nothing to do with her. "Why do I feel you're my mate? What have you done to me? "bellowed the King. "How do you know I am not your mate?" I asked, growling in frustration. I did not want to be his mate any more than he wanted me to be his, but his cocky attitude was getting to me. "Because you are not even a werewolf," he grunted, his black irises shimmering dangerously. "You're a liar," I screamed not caring that I was talking to the most lethal creature in the world. He roared in laughter, the sound of which irritated the hell out of me. Aargh! How I wanted to rip his heart out even as I wanted to glue my body to his and stay there forever, basking in his scent. I was so mad that I wanted to show him how wrong he was. Soon, he would be sorry, he would kneel and beg for my forgiveness. The mental image of him on his knees made my lips twitch with amusement. I started phasing out to my wolf form, and when I stood in all my glory, I prowled and preened to show off my beautiful fur. He laughed even harder. I simply wanted to kill him. Yes, my wolf was small, but it existed. Why the hell wasn't he on his knees then? "As I said, you're not a werewolf," he repeated. Huh, what did he mean by that?