A Royal Bloody Wedding

Latisa Franci, the dominant ruling European kingdom inhabited on the strands of the white sea, protected by the pluvial mountains that reached the fingers of God himself. It was the sacred ground for the ruling Royal family that assured all werewolves living in the European continent were shielded away from the sworn enemies and all evil cursing them. Every breathing werewolf trusted the Royal family back in the days of King Stephen and truthfully it was a safe place for every inhabitant.

Then things horridly took a wrong turn when the position of King had to be given to a vile, barbarous, bloodthirsty Prince who had no droplet of mercy travelling in his veins. He changed the law, changed many things that werewolves love and did and banned some of the activities. To prove my point of how horrid, ill-mannered he is, he daggered his very own uncle for being a traitorous Royal on a ceremonial night. It seemed to be that the idea of blood on his hands brought him pleasure no woman can compete with. Story after story, heartbreak after heartbreak, the inhabitants on the sacred ground feared worst.

Unfortunately for some dull-witted, unmated maiden was unwillingly taken captive under the wings of the Royals after. She tried to escape Europe by eloping with her human lover. She thought to live peacefully in the Ottoman Empire without those foolish rules, but got caught at the border lines between Greece and Turkey. She was to be dead in a matter of days, She broke an important aspect of this land and deserved bad. Surprises were competing with one another. She was to be executed on the fourth day captured but King Stephen had given me another option on my execution day. It was to wed King Demetrius, his unfeeling and heartless son