The Wolf Princess
- Reads 148,497
- Votes 7,844
- Parts 41
MatureOngoing2h 32m
Last published Mon, May 4, 2020
* Highest Ranking In Werewolf #69*
*3RD PLACE IN THE STARSTRUCK AWARDS*
18 year old Tegan Foster lived a normal life, until one day it all changed...
The day Tegan took her true form was a day she would never forget, shifting into a wolf isn't a normal thing people would do everyday but it was for her family.
Tegan is the first hybrid to walk the earth in her true form. With her blazing eyes and fur as black as night she intimidates anyone who sees her.
She's strong; he thinks she's weak.
She's the first hybrid to walk Earth; he's a lycan.
She's the one in the prophesy; he's not.
She's legendary; he's rare.
He's a prince and she's a true princess.
She's stronger than he thinks but he still rejects her.
What happens when you roll love, rejection, hate, legends, prophesies, magic, lust, jealousy, power hungry beings and the royals into one? You get war.
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-Ongoing-
COVER MADE BY THE AMAZING P-Oenothera!
Stage: First Draft
All Rights Reserved
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"She tried so desperately to protect you from me, but you went and brought me to you yourself, didn't you?" My brown eyes were fully engulfed in crimson as they met a pair of peacock-greens I hadn't seen in two centuries. "Well, hello there," I hummed. "Little Alpha King." ---------- Kamaria was once an orphaned she-wolf, the runt of the pack with the sole goal of surviving the nights that left her cold, hollow, and alone. Relief came in the form of peacock-green eyes and a charming smile-a man fated to be hers. She didn't know she was being traded from one prison to another, where even the staggering joy she'd claimed would be ruthlessly ripped away. Two centuries after, fate brought her back to the very place that bled her life of colour. But the scorned she-wolf is gone; in her place stands a Titan, forged in the shards of gods and fueled by decades of trials painted by her own blood. As she rains retribution upon those who had robbed her life of youth, a new shadow emerges. When temptation arrives - dark winged and armed with prismatic eyes always set on her - just how long will Kamaria's walls stay firm before they begin to crumble under his possessive, primeval touch? ---------- "Give me your hands," I commanded softly. She stiffened, her silver hair shimmering as it drowned under golden light. "I'm fine, Cacciatore. I don't need your-" I didn't wait for her to finish. I reached out and took her hands in mine. They were small, honey-toned, and trembling slightly from the fading adrenaline. Across her knuckles were smears of dark, drying blood-Luther's blood. My movements were rigid and practised, yet there was a gentleness in my touch that even I didn't fully understand. "You shouldn't have to carry his filth on your skin," I murmured, my voice a low vibration. Note: Undergoing major edit.
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