HOWLINGS AND SHADOWS (Thindrel Howzit Hawthorne)
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- Parts 50
MatureOngoing
Last published Mon, Dec 27, 2021
As a hybrid of royal vampire and werewolf lineage, I've always known my place in the world - heir to a kingdom, powerful beyond measure. My life seemed predestined, a path laid out before me like a golden road.
Yet, amidst the splendor, I felt an emptiness, a void that whispered of something more. Love.
I set out to find it, driven by an insatiable hunger. And then, she appeared. But instead of filling the void, she shattered the very foundations of my world. My perfect life unraveled, leaving me broken and lost.
The darkness closed in, and I fell, my howls echoing through the shadows. Now, I must confront the fragments of my own identity and the chaos that love has unleashed. Will I find a way to reclaim my throne, or will the shadows consume me?
Happy Reading! 💙
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*Not everything stated in the prologue accurately reflects the main ideas of the story.* Have you ever been so fierce, so strong, so untamed? Have you ever been so independent - always thinking, always saying you will never be weak? Have you ever felt invisible to everyone, like you're standing in a crowded room screaming silently, yet no one turns their head? You want to be seen, desperately, but it feels like they look right through you. Have you ever hated someone not for who they are, but for what they expect you to be? They admire your strength, applaud your resilience, and praise your confidence, but none of them have ever stayed long enough to witness your weakness. They only love the strong version of you, the one that doesn't cry, the one that holds everything together even when you're falling apart inside. And so, you hide it. You keep your silence and wear your strength like armor. Because if you break - who will catch you? If you let the tears fall - will they still respect you? Will they still stay when they finally see the parts of you that aren't as perfect or fearless? Sometimes, it feels like being strong has become your only identity. But what they don't know is that even the fiercest souls need rest, even the wildest hearts get tired, and even the strongest people long to be held-not because they are weak, but because they've been strong for too long. But you are not just strength. You are softness, too. You are the quiet ache behind the brave face, the sleepless nights behind the bright smile. And though you have survived countless seasons alone, deep down, there's a part of you whispering: Let someone in. Let someone see the chaos and call it beautiful. Let someone touch the thorns and still choose to stay. Maybe you're not meant to be tamed. Maybe you're meant to be understood. Because even wildflowers deserve a place to bloom freely, without having to hide their roots.
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