Bastet And Her Mate

Bastet And Her Mate

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Jul 7, 2017
I gasp as I took my first breathes. It's has been hundreds of years since I have been awaken from my slumber. The very breathes that I take now indicate me that my presence is needed in the supernatural world between werewolfs, vampires, witches, nymphs and more. I have had many names through time. In Egypt I was the Bastet the lioness goddess of warfare and protection. For the Greeks I was Artemis the goddess of hunt. In India I am Durga A fierce, demon fighting goddess who sits upon a lion. I am the one who alleviates suffering. These title were given to my by the humans but in the supernatural world I am a hybrid member of the Calypso family line. We were the last creations of the great mother moon goddess. (May contain some variation of mythological history in the story. This is a werewolf love story.)
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This is a world where power and dominance stand above anything and everything else. This is a world where you don't want to run around in the dark. This is a world where love is nothing other than a meaningless word used to describe the indescribable feeling of having a Mate. This is a world where wolves are dominant and only the most powerful survive. This is the world Silas, a loner and the first full blooded wolf in history, was born into. The world where she must prove her dominance in order to survive. * * * Unbearable pain erupted through my body, almost instantly. Dizziness made the room swirl unnaturally and darkness threatened to take over. "Up," the Alpha repeated. I tried, but, once again, I was rendered immobile. Another large syringe full of the green and silver mixture was injected into my body. This process repeated, time and time again. My body could not handle it. The room spun in quick, repeating circles as darkness surged, covering everything I saw and felt with a thick, black blanket. I couldn't remember anything. Not who I was. Not where I was. Not who was with me. Not what I was supposed to be doing. But, as I lay there, unconscious, beginning to go insane with pain, I could still hear, still remember, him. I could remember the voice of someone I had met, not that long ago, that already meant the world to me. I could remember the feeling of our wolves connecting, all but the new fifth member of my body, who had led me to this dark, dangerous place. I could remember feeling, for the first time in years, what it felt like to be happy. I could remember his name. Jace. * * * I do not take credit for the picture used in the cover of this story. <ON HOLD>

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