Running in Ivory

Dreams.
I am haunted by dreams.
Not dreams though.
Memories.
Memories twisted and folded into dreams.
In my memories there was screaming. Screaming from the day of my elder brothers birthday party when he was six. Screaming from when I broke my arm when I was ten. Screaming because my brother took me on a rollercoaster when I was thirteen. Screaming from the worst day of my life. Screaming from the day my parents died. The day I turned everything turned grey. The day I watched my brother get ripped apart by wolves.

That was the day of my nineteenth birthday. That was the day I frozen over. The day the nights got colder as I wandered them. The day the weeks got longer because I lived them. The night my heart turned to stone.
The night I will forever remember as the night my heart turned black.
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In a world where werewolves are constantly attacking the werecats there is one girl who is brave enough to take on the werewolf king and that girl is indeed a werecat, a graceful, cold and powerful werecat. No not powerful by birthright, powerful because that's the path she chose. This werecat was not only cold to the touch but she had a burning fire deep in her heart. A fire which was determined to destroy the species which destroyed her family, starting with the king. If only she wasn't his mate.