









On my 16th birthday I thought my dad was a nut case. He talked about being a witch and werewolf hybrid mix in a long line of the almost extinct crescent moon pack. My twin brother and I would never see each other after our transition. Only the stronger twin would survive. I didn't expect it to be me. I always thought I was the weaker twin. Now I'm the lone survivor of my pack. Training starts immediately. My mother was gone, my brother was dead and apparently I was a wanted witch-wolf hybrid by powerful deadly beings. My survival depended on this training. I was the sole survivor and the most strongest alpha in the world. All I had to do was find my strength and train. I needed to build my pack from scratch. Of course my brothers best friend was my omega. Could things get worse? The answer is yes. Things could get worse. Much much worse.
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