Tears trickled down pale chubby cheeks, soft deep blue eyes like a storming ocean, open wide.
Terror stricken, staring into red glowing eyes surrounded by deep brown fur, blood covered the ground.

A tiny trembling hand. Soft skin covered in a warm crimson metallic liquid.

The small child stared in agony, pain written all over it's face.

Bodies strewn. Thrown about like a massacre.

A massacre it was.

"Noona...!" A soft giggle floated across the cottage in the light yellow kitchen, as a sweet wrinkled smile faced the delicate beauty seated at the table. A bright grin spread across her features as she watched her grandmother cook.
It was her favorite.
Homemade macaroni and cheese, made with love from her Noona.

"Sit down, love" Her grandmother chuckled in amusement.
The young seventeen year old girl sitting at the small table only shared by two, was jumping in her own seat with childish immature excitement not common in a young woman her age.
No one would ever comment though.

No one could ever find it in themselves to.

"Are you finished in the garden? Clean up properly?" Her Noona chided as Maia swung her legs in the chair.

Maia was a werewolf, but due to early childhood complications, her size was half that of a normal female werewolf.

Maia stood as a grown wolf at only 4'11ft, though she pleaded to be placed at 5'ft on her doctor's charts.
It didn't diminish her beauty despite the size of herself. She never felt hindered either; rather, her size allowed for greater things than bigger wolves.

Such as hide and seek.

Her grandmother had quite the difficulty chasing away suitors with less than admirable motivation.
If not for being the current Alpha's great Aunt and close family, she would be suffering with how much trouble the young hot blooded warriors of the pack could cause.

"Yes Noona, my roses are growing so pretty" Maia began to ramble on about the multi colored rose garden made for her therapy.
Maia was... stuck in a certain phase of immaturity despite her wonderful ability to display her bright mind. Maia was talented in tracking, and her small size made her faster than most wolves. She was excellent at evasion and escape, since she was first able to shift at the age of six.

Most children shifted when they hit puberty, but if put under extreme stress, they are known to shift early.

Maia's Noona placed the food down and the two quickly said grace to the Moon Goddess before quietly digging in. Maia was well behaved, obedient, and endlessly kind. Despite her own nature, she had a keen ability to see another's emotion.
She was always happy to lend a hand and help.

Her clumsy nature made it impossible for her to perform normal tasks.

She couldn't cook without starting a fire, or clean without becoming dirty in the process. She was always positive, never allowing herself to become sullied by such negativity.
She's always ready to help.

The little girl dressed in a lacy soft white dress swung her feet happily as she chirped at her Noona as they made small talk.
Nothing strenuous was ever brought up in front of Maia.
A protected white rose in a garden.

Or a guarded naive left to her ignorance.

♡

"Haahhhhhhh.....!" The scream echoed off the dark wet cement walls.
The cold air did nothing against a werewolf- but the silver chains wrapped around each wrist, ankle, and the rogue's neck did not allow the wolf within him to protect against the pain and torture caused by a ferocious Alpha.
A blood chilling smile laid upon dark features as they looked at the frail but snarling lone wolf in the prison.

Alpha Lucien Drake Waters, Alpha of the White Lily.

Such an ironic name, as the pack itself was well known throughout the Americas.
White Lily was a Lycan led pack, and while not the largest, they were the most secluded and ferocious. Warriors trained to slaughter without mercy or conscious, and to kill any trespassers without fail.

Unless their Alpha wanted information from certain wolves who become unfortunate enough to forget who's land they cross.

The metallic smell filling the chilled cement walls excited his inner beast. He felt nearly euphoric.
The flutter of a heart began to dull.
The gurgles and pleas of the imprisoned wolf fell on ears accustomed to such sickness.

The heart struggled. The wolf struggled. Survival. Fight. Life.

All for naught. To submit to the Alpha was ingrained within it's very nature.

Submit.

Lucien growled, annoyed the prisoner died before he could even start to interrogation process.
He was too caught up in the blood lust, forgetting to even ask a question.
The pleas for mercy and a painless death.
Lucien exited the underground cellars were rogues and crime committing wolves were kept. Except, his pack never committed a true crime, and not within the last thirteen years has any of his pack mates been subjected to the cellars.
It was normally just extra training or cleaning for the pups.

He was lenient and cordial to his own pack.

Just not anyone else.

Only the pack matters. Protect and Lead.

"Alpha...!" Lucien turned towards his Beta, Micheal. A good friend for many years, and also a Lycan as himself.
His pack was smaller than most, with only a population of five hundred, but the majority of the pack was Lycan or had Lycan genes strongly flowing in their blood.
It would be suicide for even the biggest pack to attempt anything against them.
Lucien turned, still covered in the vile rogue's blood, which made Micheal grin.
He was always the more wild and sadistic man, compared to Lucien's calm and calculating nature.

"Mike?" Lucien asked casually as they moved towards the pack house.

"Slight issue, nothing big. Our neighbor's, the Moon Rose, want us to attend their mate ball again this year?" Lucien knew what Micheal wanted.

Just like Micheal, Lucien was desperate for his mate.

An average werewolf's life span was around 200-300 years.

A Lycan could live for nearly a thousand.

Lucien himself was nearing 300 years old, while Micheal was past the threshold.
Lucien was Alpha by blood and strength, being the larger and more powerful wolf.
Both males had yet to find their mate. Their other half.
Both were nearing the breaking point of insanity and max cruelty as they struggled to wait.

Everyone knew. The stronger the male, the more dominant, the fiercer... the more necessary a mate became. A stabilizer for the beast within. One who would recognize 'protect' over 'hunt'.

"Inform them of our arrival time. Tomorrow around noon" Lucien nodded.
Micheal grinned. Nodding his head before stalking off inside, likely to eat.

Lucien went towards his living quarters, looking around with great depression at how empty his space was.
Always so empty.

He stripped without a care, throwing the bloodied clothes on the hardwood floors, before taking a shower to wash the smell of blood and sweat off him.

Another night alone.

His wolf howled within him. Longingly.

He recognized the war torn wolves surrounding him. Exhaustion would not come to him though. The beast inside him wanted more blood. More pain.
It was only an animal after all. A predator that constantly fought the human side it was contained inside.

A monster.

Was this his future?

His brothers and sisters stood with him. He was leading them to victory brought savagery and annihilation.

They would stand by him in this battle.

What after?

His beast rallied. Striking down any foe and gracefully avoiding alley.
The sounds of howls, growls, yelps, whines, cries, screams, bones snapping, fur and skin shredding, all filled the night under the full moon.

Selene was watching over them!

White Lily would stand stronger. The dead would be mourned by the human side, while the beasts rejoiced of cleansed weakness.
The strong survive. The weak do not.

Woman, children, none mattered.

Why did he feel like a villain? Dare he allow himself self pity while in a massacre?

Can a monster even receive the blessing of the goddess and obtain his missing half? Or will he remain only half complete...