Wailing Woman

Prologue

To any other person who lays eyes on Freyja (Fray-a), she looks plain and insignificant; Freja is anything but.

She is one of the few within in the mortal world that knows creatures of myth and legends exist.

But she's not even human herself.

She is a harbinger of death. A wailing woman; a Banshee.

A creature who's scream shakes the very foundation of the world to crack the barrier between the living and the dead.

Freyja doesn't know why her kind is an abomination within the supernatural world.

All she remembers is the look of absolute dread on her mother's face as she made Freja promise to never reveal her true identity.

Moments before she gave her own life in order to keep her daughter's existence a secret.

Freyja knew very well that she may have been the last of her kind, she knew she had to live in the shadows of society in order to survive.

So she did.

It's been years since her mother's death, and she has grown into a beautiful young woman of twenty-two years. She's lived her entire life with her mother's sacrifice in mind, knowing that one slip up could be the end of her human life.

But as her abilities grow and strengthen inside her, the barrier she has built up in her mind begins to crack and crumble. She knows that she won't be able to hold on forever.

As if that wasn't enough; the supernatural world seems to be creeping ever-closer, and there's only so much longer the dam on her mind will hold.

All it takes is one step in the wrong place at the right time, and Freyja's entire world is ripped out from beneath her feet. She was randomly targeted, snatched by someone she didn't even see.

And now, she is bound by duty, meant to be a slave to the most formidable creatures in the supernatural world; Vampires.

She knows that she must keep up that facade if she wants to survive captivity. But her abilities only seem to grow stronger once she is taken. Only more restless. She fears that she is dying, her immortal body quietly fading away the longer her mind is restrained.

And the man who has claimed her as his own is an even bigger challenge to conquer, a much more intricate game she must navigate.

But even as she fights to build her wall back up, Freyja can sense something off about her glorified prison.

Something has been awoken in the midst of the hell she walks.

Something dark and ancient and bubbling with festering malice and rage. Some wicked sense of hunger. A thirst for agony and chaos and death.

She can't seem to shake the feeling that something darker and more elaborate is taking place just out of her line of sight, and that her fate might lead her to go head to head with it.

The more Freyja uncovers, the more it becomes apparent that she has some vital part to play in the battle that is racing towards her.