Chains of Destiny

Chains of Destiny

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing31m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Jan 22, 2025
The scent of blood reached the temple's guardians before they saw the horrors within. Their heightened senses detected the metallic tang hanging heavily in the air as they approached the gates. What they found behind the carved silver doors was a sight that would haunt them forever. The altar, once adorned with moonstones and offerings of silver petals, was reduced to rubble. The effigy of the Moon Goddess, crafted from luminescent stone, lay shattered on the floor, her serene face split in two. Sacred artifacts, symbols of the Goddess' guidance and protection, were gone-stolen. The air felt heavy with despair and anger. But the most horrifying sight awaited at the temple's heart. The walls were defaced with vile, hateful slogans scrawled in blood. "Death to the beasts," "No peace with savages," and other grotesque phrases dripped from the stone. And at the altar's center, where the sacred fire once burned, lay the mutilated body of a werewolf pup. Barely out of infancy, the pup's silver fur was matted with blood, its lifeless body arranged cruelly as though it were an offering. This was not just desecration. It was a declaration of war. Read more inside....
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Re-posting. The common story is that finding a mate is supposed to make the wolf stronger. For an alpha, finding his mate, blessed by the moon goddess, strengthens the pack. But there can be such darkness hidden in that dynamic. Even those of cruel hearts can seek the power of a mate. And the damage they cause might not ever be healed. ***** Prologue: Drip. Drip. Drip. The rhythm or the water would have been soothing if it hadn't been so cruel. Drip. As it was, it was nothing more than a taunting form of torture. Drip. Ears could hear the soft thudding of raindrops at the end of the hall as a door was pulled open in squeaking protests and then shut with a harsh metallic clang. How the rain made its way into the depths of the cement room, it didn't matter. It was there. Drip. Step. Drip. Step. The footsteps were strong and full of purpose. Though just as unwanted as the drops of water that fell too far out of reach. Unable to quench the dehydrated desperation chained to the wall. Drip. Step. Drip. Step. Only one set of footsteps. There was no question of the destination or purpose that carried them down the hall. Not that it was a surprise. It was always the same. First the pain, then the visit. The cell door opened to darkness. There was no energy to move, not even enough to will eyelids to open. Not that it mattered. The visit never changed. What more could be said? What more could be done? All that mattered was that stale, barely edible food was only given after he was done. Only then, could there be any comfort from hell. ***** WARNING- This story does delve into topics of kidnapping, imprisonment, rape, murder, and violence. Though the scenes are not explicitly detailed, underage readers are discouraged. Also note that I do not own the rights to any photos I have or might post for this story. Just photos I found online, cropped and edited. The story however, is all mine. No copy of content is permitted.

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