During the dawn of time, man lived peacefully, carefully, making a life for themselves, cultivating the earth, electing officials, setting governments. In a time of peace, the Moon Goddess made her creation, a man turned into wolf and thus werewolves walked amongst them. Humans feared them instead of rejoiced, they fought and murdered in the streets, and for many long years there was a war between man and wolf. Divided and always aware of one another, cautious, bloodthirsty.
Their division, their war, only came to a conclusion when the emersion of hybrids came to be. When the Moon Goddess was so saddened by her two creations constant battle and bloodshed, she sought to create a bridge between man and wolf, to make half-breeds who would unite the two sides and end the war once and for all.
However, man and wolf, instead, turned their hatred towards them. Hybrids were strong and fast in their human form, extremely powerful in their werewolf form, and uncontrollable, unstable. For once in history, man and wolf joined sides to massacre the half-breeds. The War on Hybrids began, led by the werewolf King, the Mad King; Donovan Helldane. The Helldane bloodline was said to be the first line of werewolves to ever exist, ancient Lycans, purebreds, gifted with long-life, extreme strength, and their wolf was twice the size of an average werewolf.
Men and wolves fought alongside each other, burning down villages and homes, killing and murdering hybrids. Men, women, children; any who were hybrids died by their fangs and their silver swords. They did not stop. The murdering continued until every single hybrid was wiped from existence, no matter how hard they tried to run, hide, or fight; it was a battle they were never meant to win.
Donovan Helldane killed the last hybrid by his hand. The Mad King entered the home of his dear friend and alpha, Ephraim Axel--the second-oldest werewolf bloodline--and his mate, the Witch Queen, Adonia. With no mercy and nothing but pure madness and rage, the King slaughtered their child, murdering Ephraim when he tried to attack and unleashed the rest of his rage upon the Witch Queen.
Floating in the pool of her blood, her mate and husband's, and her infant child's; Adonia used the rest of her strength to place a curse upon the Mad King and all the other Helldane's to come.
"You will pay for the death of my husband and my child. You will suffer the same pain you have inflicted on all these people. You will face the worst pain in your entire life, far worse than death and blade. When you find your mate you will mark her, impregnate her, taken over by a beast unlike wolf, and when your first-born is birthed, the beast will murder your mate and you will never be able to stop it. You will face the worst pain, the worst suffering, and it will be done by your own hand and you will live and survive until the beast kills you and it will be passed to all first-borns. All male first-borns. Helldane's will never forget what they have done today. You will never be able to remove this curse unless the unkillable beast be killed. With the blood of my love, my child, myself; I curse you."
It was something the Mad King would never expect to happen. His wolf form became an even larger beast, animalistic, brutal, inhumane. He found his mate later in life, though he desperately feared the day to come. Just when he believed her curse was nothing but an attempt to scare him--that there would be no way a werewolf could murder their mate--when his first-born son came into the light the beast took over and murdered her.
The Mad King sat isolated for decades, chained to his own misery, riddled with a broken heart and suffering from the worst pain until the beast grew too powerful, too strong, and killed him. Outgrowing his body, breaking every bone, giving him the worst end to his horrible life. Once the beast was gone, it appeared within his son when he came of age and the curse continued in a twisted, endless cycle.
When the War on Hybrids ended, man and wolf continued their alliance and lived separately, in different realms with different rulers and rules. However, even with every last hybrid killed, man and wolf never let go of their hatred towards them and man hunters scouted forests searching for them, werewolves did nearly the same.
For centuries, hybrids ceased to exist. Man and wolf carried on with their lives, separated and in peace.
The Moon Goddess, however, so heartbroken with the divide and the hatred of hybrids and the unnecessary slaughter, she gave one single Alpha the mate of a human in her final attempts to fix the hatred in their hearts.
Alpha Reinald Rolayne of the Golden Moon Pack found his mate, a human woman, a waitress, Iris Joynore who worked at the Midnight Stop inn on the borderline of his pack's land. Their love blossomed like any human's love would and their mate-bond persevered like any werewolf's would.
But word circled, his pack caught wiff of her, finally understanding where their alpha constantly ran off to. She was pregnant already, by then, her pregnancy going quick as she had a half-human, half werewolf growing in her womb. They were on the run. Reinald's pack was after them. While they were on the run, she gave birth to their baby. In a secluded pond, deep within the forest. The labor was intense, the pain unbearable. Iris fought and struggled and barely managed to get their baby out and into the world before the rest of her life went into the child. Reinald'd heart shattered, like his chest was being ripped in half. He carried their child, his pack still close behind, and the pain in his chest made him weak, made him slow. It took every ounce of his being to leave her, to let her body float and lay to rest in that pond.
Their baby was healthy and strong and so very beautiful. Born with the hybrid white hair and her eyes golden, so very golden. She held the same features as her mother and Reinald held her so close, running with her in his arms, trying desperately to get her to safety.
The pain in his chest was so unbearable, so gut-wrenching. He could feel the bond snapping, like a sword going straight through his chest, slowly, but not killing him. He fought members of his pack off with one hand, members he trained with and worked alongside with were now his enemy.
He knew where he was going and he was determined to get there but one after another, a member got closer and would injury him and he'd defeat them to get away but it continued until he had fought off every enemy and until he was covered in his own blood and slashes, gaping wounds and scuffs. His healing, his wolf, was betraying him from the pain of losing his mate, not allowing him to close the wounds.
He was crawling, by the end, holding his daughter so close, so tightly, until he finally found that house in the clearing, the one he'd been looking for.
His father, a familiar face, another werewolf who lost his mate, emerged, rushing to his side. "Reinald!" he shouted, knowing the scent of his son, smelling the amount of blood and pain coming from his one and only child.
Reinald collapsed onto the earth, in his fathers flower garden. "F-Father..."he choked, blood pooling at his lips.
"Son, what has happened? Why are you not healing?" his father insisted, his attention turning towards the child in his hands. "A hybrid," he fought the urge to flinch away.
"My daughter," he said, choking still, his father looking at him with wide eyes. "P-Please...you have t-to...take care of her. She...she will be..the bridge...one day..." he was fading, he could feel the Goddess reaching for him, feel Iris. "I am going to the...G-Goddess'...palace...please k-k-keep her...safe. My Ameerah."
He watched his son fall limp, dying from his wounds. Tears streamed down his face, his mate and now his only child. He grabbed the infant girl from his bloodied hands, saw the white hair and glowing golden eyes. Ameerah. He held her close, placing his forehead upon hers, crying softly.
He knew by taking the child in he would live a life of constant threat, he and the child both. He would raise her, teach her how to be a warrior, to hunt, to survive, but teach her to be humane. He would teach her to be good. Just as he taught his own son.
The fate of their lives was now in the Goddess's hands. If they were meant to survive and live, unnoticed by the world, then it had to be by the Goddess's will.
"Ameerah Rolayne," he spoke softly, brushing her cheek slightly. "The hybrid."
YOU ARE READING
Gilded Heart
Werewolf[Remake of my story "The Hybrid"] In a world where Humans and Werewolves are divided, in separate realms, sharing only one common enemy; hybrids. Half-human, half-werewolf offspring, creatures of destruction. In a time of war between Humans and Were...
