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***Discontinued. Will be rewritten in the future. Do not read, it is full of purple prose you have been warned.*** "I'll make you trust me." The ghost of a visibly false smile floats across my face. "You're callow to try." ~~~~~ Eight quiet years ago, the royal family fell victim to a battle of mutiny. The firsts of the werewolves, the Lycans, were slaughtered by their own kind-- the very species they had created. Only one survivor had escaped the bloodshed, bred an heir of what is now known as the Falling. That survivor had fallen from royalty and straight to the ranks of a packless rogue. She lived the life of an animal, letting her human side go, as it was only a facade anyway. Her identity became nonexistent as she faded off into the shadows, the last Lycan alive becoming nothing more than a child's tale. The werewolf nation had enjoyed those eight years of tense peace since the Falling. They were moving onto new things-- some letting go of the grief of their dead rulers, others celebrating everyday they lie in the ground. Until a certain Alpha claims a certain rogue as his mate, and the moon overhead turns black; announcing to the world that a Lycan is back. - Status: ongoing, rough draft Updates: slow updates. also under major editing/revisions Warning: this is not an easy read, it's actually quite rubbish, you have been warned Cover: @Silverless
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