Werewolves: The Rise of a Cursed Alpha in a World of Hunters and Hidden Beasts
Under a swollen moon, the forest didn't breathe right. I felt it first in my bones-sharp, electric, wrong. The stories called them myths, but myths don't leave claw marks in flesh or whispers in the dark. Werewolves walk between two worlds, cursed to shed their human skin when the moon demands it. One moment, a man with secrets; the next, a creature driven by hunger and instinct.
They don't just hunt. They remember. That's the worst part.
Some fight it-locking themselves away, chaining their own bodies before the change takes hold. Others embrace it, running wild through shadows, answering only to the pull of blood and pack. You can't always tell who they are. They look like us. Talk like us.
Until night falls.
And when it does, the line between man and monster tears wide open, leaving only one truth behind-once the change begins, there's no stopping what comes next.
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They don't just hunt. They remember. That's the worst part.
Some fight it-locking themselves away, chaining their own bodies before the change takes hold. Others embrace it, running wild through shadows, answering only to the pull of blood and pack. You can't always tell who they are. They look like us. Talk like us.
Until night falls.
And when it does, the line between man and monster tears wide open, leaving only one truth behind-once the change begins, there's no stopping what comes next.
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