welovepsycos
The world will try to name them.
Witch.
Wolf.
Vampire.
Abomination.
But names are fragile things. They break under pressure. They change depending on who is speaking and who is listening.
What they are cannot be contained in a single word.
What they are is dangerous.
This is the story of how they learn that.
Of how the night finds them.
Of how the moon claims them.
Of how magic quiet, patient, and watching begins to stir.
It is a story of hunger.
Of loss.
Of becoming.
And like all stories that matter...
It does not end the way it begins.