It was the darkest night ever. Spring and Summer nights tend to be darker than Winter nights. It's shut, as if velvet curtains are drawn across the horizon and the sky feels lowered down to the earth like a dense ceiling of stars and moons. I can smell darker things in Spring and Summer months. It's full of biting tropical insects and reptiles full of venom. The flowers are poisonous at night here in the valleys and the nocturnal blooms spit acid if you try and touch them. The crocodiles are often out in the warm months too and that means keeping young indoors away from going out. It's dangerous and bitter smelling with fermented fruits and alcoholic puddles, the nasty pong of rapeseed fields that are bad for my nose. Vultures come then to feed off the rotten corpses of the dead. There are leftovers of what we've hunted.
This Spring is darker, because I'm followed by hunters. They've tracked the wolf to my house, and can't find her. They've only encountered me. They think I'm keeping the wolf indoors for safety as they view me as an animal rights activist protecting the rights of a wild animal over their cattle, pigs, sheep and little hens. I know the mean hunters will be laying traps. So I can't let my boys and girls play outside as free as I want them to.
My hair is black with Moroccon elemental conditioner and it makes my yellow eyes turn sparkling gold. I've covered my hair in dark butter and tomorrow I shall be with my new mate, Lord Walden Soren, the handsome one with fiery eyes and red hair.
My two sons Jarl, 12, and Viktor, 9, are adventurous on their bikes. My daughters Sonja, 10, and Tilde, 7, like running through the meadows and playing in the grass. They are creative children. The boys built three dens and two tree houses. My daughters set up a campsite and expanded it into a shop, where they sell toys and sweets to human friends. And only one, my eldest child, Jarl, is a wolf during the full moon times because the others have not matured to reach that stage. Being a werewolf in our tribe comes with puberty. I don't want my wolf children getting caught and killed by the hunters.
I'm devastated to hear that one of my children's friends is the son of one of those evil hunters. That killer butchered innocent regular wolves over the years. He wants to clear the land of wild animals. He thinks they're all petes. He finds hatred wherever he goes. I hate that man.
My beloved doesn't turn up.I'm crying tears. Spring is so dark.
As my children sleep, dreaming of their dead father again perhaps, I weep for the love I've been denied.
Then by morning, my lover, Walden Soren, appears at the door covered in mud and blood. I let him inside and give him soup. Instead he wants whiskey. I don't have this.
"I killed that hunter," he told me. "I killed all of the hunters."
He explained to me that while he turned into a wolf, he slaughtered all three of the hunters one by one. He picked them. He stalked them in the forest.
"Now the world is going to come after us," I reply in sadness.
"The world isn't going to come after us," he replied. "Humans will go after wild animals."
"I hate humans," I said. I'm afraid of humans.
He looked at me. "Humans are not the enemy."
"But you killed them tonight."
"No, I killed the hunters."
"The hunters are humans."
"Yes but the enemy isn't humans."
I don't understand. We're argueing now.
"The enemy is ourselves," he told me.
It's a miserable conversation. I listen to him try and teach me to understand how us werewolves have been behaving for the last few hundred thousand years. Most of it is appalling. He finishes the history lesson and I'm suddenly ashamed to be a werewolf after that.
"You need to read the books in my castle," he says.
We visited his castle that weekend and I found the books in his library. I can't understand the old writing. He does. He translates it. I don't feel ashamed to be a werewolf now. I feel disgusted that werewolves have been so brutal, evil and cruel in the past. Werewolves have slaughtered villages of humans and given large populations the plague. Werewolves invented warfare, and set fire to whole communities, deliberately starving people, drowing them, torturing them, eating them and then sacrificing them. Humans were butchered to death on pyramids for the so-called worship of the sun. Werewolf nobles believed that the sun healed and wanted at extension of sunlight to prevent painful transformations. Also to stop the wolf god swallowing the sun, they had human sacrifices. They killed innocent healthy young humans at alter sites everywhere, from Stonehenge to the Aztec pyramids.
"Be proud to be werewolf," he goes on during dinner of steak and blood wine. "We're also humans but a stronger form with the descent from wolves. Each human contains canine DNA and it's more dominant in werewolves."
"Why do we change into wolves?" I asked.
"Because of a prehistoric curse." Then he smiled "I meant, mutations to be exact."
There were ancient werewolves who tampered with nature. The mutated forms switch from wolf to human, wolf to human, every so often. Humans can produce children with werewolves. But werewolves can't mate with canines species.
"There is a type of wolf that tranforms into a human but those are really mutated humans."
The subject got darker than that. My lord and lover is a former airforce pilot and a scientist. He knows everything but he's just a man of 40 years of age. He's got two beautiful teenage daughters who I've yet to meet. I could tell you of our wedding but that is another story. I wanted to share this with you. I'm Wilone Blackwolf and I'm 35 years old.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.
Hello and welcome to She Wolf Night. This blog is mainly about the paranormal including ghosts, monsters, urban legends, UFO's and cryptids. We also cover subjects of folklore, myths and legends. I sometimes mention stories about the natural world. I base my posts on information from books, websites, articles and even historic records, which I always give links to. There will be some content that readers may find disturbing. Finally I will point out that this blog uses cookies.
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Tuesday, 26 April 2016
Thursday, 21 April 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Princess Valencia
The forest was very dark even in the day.
I carried my flashlight and ventured in.
The sky clouded over and it was difficult to see.
I found my camp, next to a bent tree.
The tent looked dirty.
I couldn't hear any birds singing.
My fingers turned numb with cold.
Now it was time.
I gazed around me until water filled my vision.
Then I spewed liquid.
My nose was bleeding.
Not again.
I fell to the ground in pain.
My rucksack was heavy so I took it off.
I dropped my flashlight and compass.
I ripped open the tent and went inside.
I remember crying and screaming in agony.
Blood went everywhere.
I was bleeding from my nose and mouth.
It was the worst pain ever.
Then I wondered what I was doing out here.
As if to kill the pain, I swallowed a pebble.
My throat burned and I couldn't breathe.
Then the pain was gone, and my throat was better.
I swallowed the stone like it was a sweet.
I got up, only I was taller.
Instead of my hair, there was pointed ears.
I had a tail.
Instead of my manicured hands were paws.
My clothes crumpled off on the floor around me.
I could see better, and everything looked sharp.
I woke up in the smeet scented room, with black drapes around my bed. The French windows were open, and a flowering breeze entered on a rainbow of light from the stained glass panes. I found a dish of berries and a thin glass of champagne next to me, left there by someone. My maid? mother? sisters? my knight in shiming armour? It wasn't breakfast. My usual meals consists of red steak and antichoke. This was a sweet.
"You're awake, princess!" the light voice of Naomi, my baby sister, sounded as she entered my room.
"And why aren't you in school?" I asked her.
She wore a shimmering golden hooded jacket and her lovely green eyes pulsated with excitement at seeing my hands.
"You're getting married!"
There is a diamond ring on my finger but it was a birthday present from my knight in shining armour. "No this is just a gift from Faolan."
Sir Faolan was twentyfour and killed beasts as well as demons. He's so handsome and I wait for him to propose to me. I will say little to him.
Then he shall come to visit me again and it will be under the full pink moon this April as blossoms wake me up from my shapeshift pattern. Faolan should still love me as he loves me as a princess.
After the day was over, I waited in the garden. Faolan rode on his white horse, and he shone like the moonlight. The diamonds on my ring sparkled.
I became wolf, in front of him, before I become his wife it is fair that I bare my soul and reval my second half. My wolf self is beautiful, shining and white with a blue sheen. He drops to his knees and lowers his sword. Faolan's long red hair hangs to the soft grass when he looks downcast. Have I upset him?
"My beautiful beloved Valencia," Faolan says sadly. "There's nothing more painful than the death of love between two people. You are not who I thought you were."
His words pain me. I return to my human form and I go to him. My silk dress, diamond ring, golden bangles and tiara feel cheap and love is more precious. Love that is finer than all the golds, diamonds, precious stones and glitter in the world. I know it's more trwasure now. You don't know how worthy love is until it's gone.
"I am the same person you loved," I tell him. There is tears in his eyes. My knight in shining armour. My warrior. My lover. He doesn't love me anymore.
The pain is like death.
He got up and walked away from me as if I wasn't there. He returned to his horse, and rode away. Gone.
I cannot describe the horrors I felt tonight. Losing my dear love. I revealed to him my true self. He didn't love me for who I really am. To him now I am a monster. He couldn't kill me so he left. He ripped my heart to pieces as though it were just paper.
The blossoms fall from the trees around me like tears. I will cherish the empty diamond ring. I will return to my palace and retreat to my room in silence then ride this hurt. It's a pain worse than anything I've ever felt before.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.
Saturday, 16 April 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Ruby Dominicanis
My mother came to see me once I phoned her while feeling ill. She looked after me and had the sponge tested. The berries were deadly red English yew berrres with some added wolfbane!
I was seen by Doctor Silver Star, a werewolf, and given meds and treated with bed rest and water. I almost died on Sunday evening.
We couldn't get the police involved, as mainstream police will want facts, they'll want to know why I didn't see a regular doctor and why I wasn't rushed to A and E. They will ask too many questions.
I was told by mum and Dr Silver to "leave it to us".
I never want to see those mean evil human friends.
Now I'm recovered, I can get back to my studies and resume my life, and avoid humanity, and never trust people again.
Why would they kill me?
They don't know I'm a werewolf. That answers one question. As to why they wanted to kill me, I don't know. Because I'm different, I guess.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.
Sunday, 10 April 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Rochelle Moonbeam
The forest was dense and thick with a mist of cobwebs.
"The widows of twilight made that," said aunt Kia.
I ate a cooked breakfast of meat and bread, as my two cousins played with toy cars on the floor. They had their breakfasts already.
"They're not real," I sighed. "It's a story."
"Yes they are real!" Little Cezar yelled angrily at me in loyalty to his mother.
Aunty Kia told him off for shouting. Then she said to me, "Just don't go in the forest at night or in the day."
"Why?" I asked. The forest doesn't scare me. I'm a creature of the night, as I quote from the book of Count Dracula. My entire family and I are werewolf kin. We belong to the ancient werewolf clans who lived through Dacia Felix, Wallachia and Romania. The forest is where I run freely. I'm at one with the forest. My aunt thinks I'm still a child.
"These are vampires who will suck the life out of anyone unfortunate to go in there during those times when the dreaded widows are out and about, weaving their silken threads until dawn."
"Aunt Kia," I finish my breakfast now. "They can't kill me."
"Mortals and ordinary people can't," she said. "The widows can!"
Her frightening words scare me. But what do I care? Stories for children.
My family, werewolves, are not immune to the scary stories. Even we were fed creepy legends of ghosts and vampires when we were small. We can be afraid of the dark just as much as ordinary humans can be. I've gone out in forests and fields many times. I'm not scared of the dark.
Yet aunt Kia may have a different reason to be worried for me. Ever since my parents died four years ago, she's taken me in and treated me very well. I suffer with epilepsy and have to take medicines brewed by her friend, a clever herbalist, so I'm not treated by mainstream doctors.
Yes werewolves have ailments, illnesses, diseases and disabilities too.
I think she's worried I'll go out and have a siezure. It must be it.
So one evening, against her warnings, I venture out and become my nocturnal self... the wolf.
As I explore the deep dark forest, I can hear the insects, owls, distant cries of foxes. I hear the sound of real natural wolves too over the hills, miles and miles away. I'm way outside their territories. But I can see shining lights glittering like illuminated dew drops, all throughout the forest. Then its spread all over like pretty glittering pearl necklaces.
Those lights are not pearls or dewdrops. I can see it is the spark of moonlight upon thick twists of cobweb threads! Eeek!
I don't venture on, because I'm not going to be tangled up in sticky spider webs.
Then the ghostly white forms of dancing maidens emerged from behind the trees. They smiled at me and laughed like teenage schoolgirls. I knew they were spectral beings, and I sensed dread. I backed away. The maidens floated through the air like feathers, and surrounded me. They threw daisy chains at me, all entwined with cobwebs, so that I wasn't able to move.
I growled and bared my teeth. These ghost maidens captured living animals often in the past, I could tell. I noticed that they were giving off a foul smell like rotten corpse.
Bursting through the trees were a large pack of angry wolves. My family and friends! The ghost maidens disappeared, and the dairy chains lost their hold onto me and broke apart. I was freed.
I was escorted home safely and the wolves transformed into people wishing me well.
"Thank you all for saving me," I said.
"No problem Rochelle," they told me.
Then aunt Kia said "You encountered the evil widows of twilight. They could've killed you. I told you not to go into that forest," she scolded me.
The others went home. She made me soup. My two cousins were asleep in their beds.
"Why do you live here then aunt Kia if those creatures haunt the nearby forest?" I asked.
"It's out ancient territory and I'm the guardian. I won't let these damned ghosts frighten me away."
"They're capable of killing any living person and animal," I said. "What if Cezar and Dan wander off outside in the future..."
"They will be protected as you were tonight."
"Not everyone is protected. I guess many poor people and animals fell victim to those rotten smelling gouls."
Then aunt Kia handed me a huge book. It contained historical facts and figures about the clan, the area and the forest itself. The widows are simply a curse on the land from a dead man who was bitten by a poisonous spider. Out of revenge he cursed everyone here in the land with the widows of death that he conjured up. The widows are spirits of princesses who are forever trapped in the desire to feed off the living. Someone needs to undo all of that.
One day I plan to take this information with me to the city of Bucharest and find a hero (a werewolf warrior) who can right this wrong. So far, no one outside the village knows about this local legend.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.
"The widows of twilight made that," said aunt Kia.
I ate a cooked breakfast of meat and bread, as my two cousins played with toy cars on the floor. They had their breakfasts already.
"They're not real," I sighed. "It's a story."
"Yes they are real!" Little Cezar yelled angrily at me in loyalty to his mother.
Aunty Kia told him off for shouting. Then she said to me, "Just don't go in the forest at night or in the day."
"Why?" I asked. The forest doesn't scare me. I'm a creature of the night, as I quote from the book of Count Dracula. My entire family and I are werewolf kin. We belong to the ancient werewolf clans who lived through Dacia Felix, Wallachia and Romania. The forest is where I run freely. I'm at one with the forest. My aunt thinks I'm still a child.
"These are vampires who will suck the life out of anyone unfortunate to go in there during those times when the dreaded widows are out and about, weaving their silken threads until dawn."
"Aunt Kia," I finish my breakfast now. "They can't kill me."
"Mortals and ordinary people can't," she said. "The widows can!"
Her frightening words scare me. But what do I care? Stories for children.
My family, werewolves, are not immune to the scary stories. Even we were fed creepy legends of ghosts and vampires when we were small. We can be afraid of the dark just as much as ordinary humans can be. I've gone out in forests and fields many times. I'm not scared of the dark.
Yet aunt Kia may have a different reason to be worried for me. Ever since my parents died four years ago, she's taken me in and treated me very well. I suffer with epilepsy and have to take medicines brewed by her friend, a clever herbalist, so I'm not treated by mainstream doctors.
Yes werewolves have ailments, illnesses, diseases and disabilities too.
I think she's worried I'll go out and have a siezure. It must be it.
So one evening, against her warnings, I venture out and become my nocturnal self... the wolf.
As I explore the deep dark forest, I can hear the insects, owls, distant cries of foxes. I hear the sound of real natural wolves too over the hills, miles and miles away. I'm way outside their territories. But I can see shining lights glittering like illuminated dew drops, all throughout the forest. Then its spread all over like pretty glittering pearl necklaces.
Those lights are not pearls or dewdrops. I can see it is the spark of moonlight upon thick twists of cobweb threads! Eeek!
I don't venture on, because I'm not going to be tangled up in sticky spider webs.
Then the ghostly white forms of dancing maidens emerged from behind the trees. They smiled at me and laughed like teenage schoolgirls. I knew they were spectral beings, and I sensed dread. I backed away. The maidens floated through the air like feathers, and surrounded me. They threw daisy chains at me, all entwined with cobwebs, so that I wasn't able to move.
I growled and bared my teeth. These ghost maidens captured living animals often in the past, I could tell. I noticed that they were giving off a foul smell like rotten corpse.
Bursting through the trees were a large pack of angry wolves. My family and friends! The ghost maidens disappeared, and the dairy chains lost their hold onto me and broke apart. I was freed.
I was escorted home safely and the wolves transformed into people wishing me well.
"Thank you all for saving me," I said.
"No problem Rochelle," they told me.
Then aunt Kia said "You encountered the evil widows of twilight. They could've killed you. I told you not to go into that forest," she scolded me.
The others went home. She made me soup. My two cousins were asleep in their beds.
"Why do you live here then aunt Kia if those creatures haunt the nearby forest?" I asked.
"It's out ancient territory and I'm the guardian. I won't let these damned ghosts frighten me away."
"They're capable of killing any living person and animal," I said. "What if Cezar and Dan wander off outside in the future..."
"They will be protected as you were tonight."
"Not everyone is protected. I guess many poor people and animals fell victim to those rotten smelling gouls."
Then aunt Kia handed me a huge book. It contained historical facts and figures about the clan, the area and the forest itself. The widows are simply a curse on the land from a dead man who was bitten by a poisonous spider. Out of revenge he cursed everyone here in the land with the widows of death that he conjured up. The widows are spirits of princesses who are forever trapped in the desire to feed off the living. Someone needs to undo all of that.
One day I plan to take this information with me to the city of Bucharest and find a hero (a werewolf warrior) who can right this wrong. So far, no one outside the village knows about this local legend.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.
Wednesday, 6 April 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Jasmine Greywolf
The wedding was on a dreary morning in April. That was arranged by Nina, my mother in law. I hadn't met her until the wedding but she worked as a key player in organising the reception, paying for the venue, transport and food. She paid for the honeymoon weekend. It was in Hawaii and that was a magical dreamy time full of warm romance.
When mother, sisters and I went to the bridal shop months ago to get my measurements, the shop assistant told me that she can make me a "surprise gown" all designed by Nina herself. That's right, Nina got me the dress. I didn't actually see it until the morning of my wedding!
The dress arrived in a box and when I opened it, my eyes stared at this thing. The bridal dress was jet black! It was like something fit for a funeral and not a wedding. I ended up with a shiny oily looking black tiara. My bouquet was full of black dhalias, orchids and red roses. The shoes were also black. Perhaps Nina wanted me cursed wearing black!
"Don't worry sweetie," mother said optimistically. "I can turn you into a princess no matter what."
She tied a silver ribbon around my hair and pinned pink roses across the brocade of my dress. Mother sprayed my hair in glitter, and put on my make-up and silver jewellery.
The wedding came and went. It was fun, despite the dress. I came to like the dress anyway. Nina, my mother-in-law was so pleasant and charming towards me and she was more beautiful than I imagined.
Hemming and I returned from out honeymoon and we had to live with Nina for a month until our own house was ready. Yes, Nina was sorting that out too. Nina was arranging for me to have my own "boudoir" in the house. She started planning the decor, the landscaping of the back garden of which I've never seen at the time. She wanted me to start working in her office, under her business in the fashion industry. She wanted me to cut and curl my hair and change the way I dress. Then she started acting weird.
"Don't wear the colours red, orange or black everyday," Nina told me one day. "Those are sacred colours to be worn only for special occasions."
I have many clothes (day wear) in these colours. I wasn't allowed to wear them. She convinced me to give them away to charity and she replaced them with colours of her choice.
What was the issue?
One day, Hemming and I moved into our house. Nina was there with us. It was basically a copy of her house! The boudoir she designed for me was something only she would like, it was very grim with black, grey and brown colours. It wasn't comfortable. She insisted I will get used to it.
"Hemming, why is your mom doing this?" I asked my husband.
"Because she cares about us," he said.
During the first full moon of our life together in our new house, we became wolves and ventured into the garden. It smelled of Nina. I couldn't help it. I was growling from fear. My hind fur stood up on end. I bared my teeth. I didn't like Nina anymore. My wolf side hated Nina and regarded her as a threat. I wanted to kill her. Those were my wolf instincts. It was just as well Nina wasn't there or I would've destroyed her.
When I regained humanity and became a woman the following morning, I remembered those drastic feelings as a wolf. I changed my feelings about my marriage to Hemming and saw his mother for what she is: controlling and a bully.
"What do you mean you want a divorce!!!!" Hemming shouted at me.
Yes, I proposed it that morning. I want out of the marriage and be away from his overbearing awful mother. I didn't really love him, I realised. It was all prearranged because I'm from an alpha family as he is. This isn't what I wanted.
"Sorry," I said. "I can't cope with all of this. Your mother is trying to alter me as a person and I'm not having it anylonger. I'm your wife. Not her slave!"
We argued. He finally left slamming the door behind him.
He will return later, I know, and bring Nina with him! I got in the car and drove away, not to my parents' house. I drove further away and checked into a hotel. Divorce will be difficult and Nina will make sure of this. One night, under a full moon I was in a street of a suburb. I wanted to disappear into the woods. Then something stalked me, it was Nina!
We had a fight, and much blood was shed. Someone heard us, and fired at us. I fled quickly and the bullet went into Nina. I ran off into the woods.
Nina was found dead the next morning covered in blood. In the end Nina was out forever and I didn't have to kill her. I was finally able to divorce Hemming without her influence. He could keep the house. Now I can wear the colours red, orange and black whenever I want to. She can't stop me anymore. I'm an alpha and so was she. We were meant to be rivals. One of us had to die.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.
Sunday, 3 April 2016
Fenrir's Daughters: Gwenda Nightshade
The flames turned blue in the small glass globes as I clipped them upon each ear. The dangling fiery earrings were heavy. I wanted to take them off. Those in my pack clan stared at me and they knew I was in discomfort with those fire balls on my ears.
"When will this finish?" I asked pleadingly to the pack leader, Sierra the alpha.
"When your initiation is complete," she said with her pretty cool smile. Sierra was beautiful with mahogany hair and green eyes. She wore shining clothes and metals that smelled like the hot fires they were prepared in. Sparks crackled in her hair when she moved.
"Now Gwenda," Sierra and a girl whose name I don't know, both held two small crowns. One of them was fatal and if worn it could kill the wearer. The other was ordinary metal. They handled both crowns with gloves and put the crowns on a red pillow.
"Pick one, Gwenda," Sierra ordered.
I could smell the toxic poison from the crown on the left. Both were identical. I placed the poison smelling crown atop my head. It wasn't actually silver but steel. I could smell it's industrious origins from a steel plant. It was the safe one.
"Well done, Gwenda," Sierra said. "You selected the right choice. The other is made from pure silver and could've killed you. Now you're part of my pack."
I took off the crown and the fire ball earrings. The blue flames within had gone out. Initiated into Sierra's Glow Moon Pack. She was in charge of it. Sierra is daughter of alphas and is supposedly a geneticist. She's too far out there in my view to be the typical scientist. Yet she owns a pack of werewolves, consisiting of all of the towns people who are werewolves by nature. As I moved here just three months ago, I was allowed to join.
Maybe I shouldn't have done. I'm an omega werewolf. I turn into a werewolf every full moon, and I'm subordinate to the moonlight and pack. I'm supposed to do as I'm told.
The werewolves in this town, and in my hometown, have always treated me like rubbish. I was bullied, picked on, spied upon. I'm not allowed to choose my own path in life. I'm the imprisoned one and if I dare choose my destiny in life, they will kill me.
Sierra promised to change all that for me. She said: "Gwenda, you're now in my pack, darling, and you are free to be whoever you want to be. You're a beautiful young woman with gorgeous white hair. You can aspire greater things in life too."
She's like my fairy godmother.
When I was initiated into her pack, I felt so happy that I made myself drunk silly on wine that evening. Perhaps it's a good thing I moved here afterall.
"How are you feeling?" asked Tangerine, my neighbour, who lived in the next apartment.
"I feel better than before!" I said, still tipsy as I wobbled in the corridor and fumbled for my keys.
Tangerine was smiling and I understood that she understood. She's a werefox and I envy the foxes as they have such wonderful freedom. I unlocked the door to my apartment and then my phone vibrated.
"Who is it?" I asked when I pressed reciever.
"Gwenda, it is us," said an unfamiliar man's voice.
"Who?"
"You know who we are."
"No I don't!"
"You've joined Sierra's pack."
"How do you know?" I asked feeling panic. "Once again I'm asking who are you?"
"Let us say we're your big wolf family. Remember to know your place."
Then the phone went dead. I couln't trace the caller as number was witheld.
The following day I visited Sierra and told her about the strange phonecall. She made me coffee and told me not to worry about it. That was all she could say. Most of the time was spent an hour there listening to her talk about her lovely holidays in exotic places. I left feeling jealous of her but with a stomach ache and I vomitted blood in the street. I knew that there was some poison in that coffee. How could she? "Know your place" those words echoed.
I became a wolf that night under the full moon, and I ventured outside, needing to be with my new pack. Instead, I was confronted by a pack of unfriendly wolves that bit me. The local town werewolves didn't want to include me in their night run.
I now sit here miserable. Sierra gave me a job working as a cleaner in a hotel. What she did earlier was a ploy to make me want to join her pack and be her omega. If I hadn't of joined then I would be better off. Free as the fox woman who lives next door. I've decided that all I can do is share my story with Fenrir's Daughters.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2016 Rayne Herbert.
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