• Prologue: Gods’ and Goddess’ Confessions

    I’m not completely sure what had drawn me to him, this wonderful man who had taken my heart so unexpectedly within his strong grasp and even tried everything to not break it like so many others before him had. This man who sparked an interest with few actions and few words, the truth that lay behind those emerald green eyes and the sweet lullaby from those luscious drawn out lips that kiss me every night in my sleep even if he isn’t there with me.
    Those strong, warm arms as they curl around me, to hold me forever more and never let go. It wasn’t something that came naturally to me, becoming intrigued by the male species, especially one who wooed girls like they were a Chinese buffet.
    He had always had women, the ones who thought they were the prettiest with high matienance attitudes. I had always thought he had left them, going through them faster then NASCAR does gas. I found it was in fact the other way around.
    I had learned to despise men because of the sexual lust, which clogged their already small minds, which in turn causes them to turn and run for a new tail that walks by. I’ve had my experience with a male that could make any therapist cringe.
    I could picture my past as if it were happening before me, as if I was back within the nightmarish scrutiny of it all. The pain, the screams that echoed through a nearly empty room, the stretch of my body and even the taste that plagued my mouth. I was all locked inside, locked with silver.
    But this one seemed to, strangely enough, actually have a brain and a trying sense of humor. He was kind to me, showing me the love I had never been given, even as a small child. He held me like the child I could never be. He kept me close to his heart even as disaster struck, his attention forever on me even as others cursed him for it. He was the one who could be, who was.
    I had seen him around school but I never even tried to talk to him unless it was absolutely necessary. A few of those I call my friends had swooned over him, falling for the same sexual appeal that every girl had fallen for (along with a few guys as well) while I merely shrugged or rolled my eyes as they relayed countless good acts he had on his soul.
    It was as if he was a god that the school believed they needed to worship. I worship no gods, merely the goddesses that had shown my kind great mercy, who had spared my people when the gods hunted them for fun or because of their fear of being toppled from their high and mighty.
    Layton soon became intrigued by me and there was no way I could rid myself of him. He was like that annoying itch that you get that you couldn’t possibly get rid of. But strangely, soon enough I didn’t want to rid myself of him. He became my thoughts; my actions and I came to be a part of him in some spiritual way, then through the body as he took me for his mate.
    But I learned the truth soon. No matter how many good deeds he held, there was one sin he would never relieve himself of. A sin that he committed at birth that made God cringe and the Devil laugh. One that broke him into a million pieces and made him different, unholy even. Just as I am.

    * * * * * * *
    I can’t really explain it, why I’ve fallen for this particular woman, this seductress, this vixen that I had so desperately yearned for. She had everything, the beauty that I so desperately wished to posses as my own and almost worship.
    The strength that radiates through a room as she steps into it with that queen-like pride and grace, the intelligence that is displayed to me every time I speak with her, even if it held that hate for men.
    She was the female a man would fight for, to take as a token of power, love. A trophy in triumph over those who could not win this feisty fighter. She would make any man fight to the death if that meant that he could have her for his own.
    She had soon become my everything and I feared losing her to anything, including another man. Even when my mind was swiped clean of her memory, my heart cried out for her. It needed her touch and her taste like a drug.
    I wanted to be with her for eternity, needed her in my life as a part of my home, and I had asked it of her with everything I had. I asked with my words, my body, my actions, even my soul. Her answer?
    Her blue eyes peer into mine as if they could see all of my soul and the sickening evil that resides so deeply within it but yet she still took me as if it were nothing to her as if she knew what it felt like.
    So desperately I tried to keep it from her and yet she still found it within me without even trying and still she did not cower away. She wasn’t even slightly appalled by what resided in me, matching it bit by bit.
    Perhaps it was because of the evil that she was drawn to me, perhaps deep inside she knew she was my true soul mate, my imprinted even if it was known to be a very rare occurrence. I really don’t know what it was, why she was the one that I wanted so badly, but I did and I still do.
    Never will I ever leave this woman. This woman who has stolen my love, my heart, my soul and every evil that went with it, and still she loves. This woman that knows so much even if she still knows so little.
    She was a goddess sent to me, to help me, by the gods that have done so much for me. Perhaps they were trying to help me repent for the evil I had taken within my soul, or perhaps this was their gift to me before my life ended and my soul was taken to Hell where it would be for eternity. I didn’t know.
    Even when I had done wrong to her a few times, nearly taking everything from her, she still stood by and watched over me to protect me in some way as if an angel and Gods do I love her for it.
    Even when I pushed her away and beat her and shouted, she got back up and stood strong. She still stood by me when I had left her to be alone in the darkness with the blessing she had relayed to me without my knowing.
    Even when everything was hopeless, she still stood by me and proved that nothing was hopeless. She saved me from damnation that was different then the one the Gods had given me, one that a demon had set up for me.
    This woman, whom I love so dearly, this woman who is unholy. Just as I am.

    * * * * * *

    We wanted to spend our lives together as a happy family, to be as wolves should. Hunting during the night when the shadows would keep our track hidden, howling into the crisp air as the excitement raced through our veins.
    We wanted to live our lives peacefully, our secrets creating no problems for us. We wanted to live our lives in solitude, only dealing with civilization when it was a must such as schooling and work.
    But nothing goes as we all plan and it was the same for us. Trouble brews below the surface for all couples whether a fight that threatens to break them up or maybe an ex steps into the picture to take back what they want.
    Ours was different, ours was far more heart wrenching and far more dastardly. It did tear us apart because knowledge was overrun by emotion. Our hearts were clouded by hatred or the power of another and we had no way of knowing the real danger behind our separation.
    We were blinded by pain or by the powers that were not realized. We had to fight for our love, fight for our family. We had to fight to keep everything we knew and held dear just as you would see in any other romance book or movie.
    Ours was a different romance, the Gods and Goddesses truly involved. Those we worshipped tested us, watched from the sidelines and tested our faith. They wished to know if it had wavered, if our love for the only thing we had went to another.
    Perhaps it had, perhaps our love for the Gods and Goddesses had gone to the person who became our soul mate and so our praise from them had run out. Perhaps they were angry with us for straying from their path.
    The Gods had always wondered over the Goddesses, questioning their love for their lovers thus never trusted the Goddesses and the Goddesses had always hated the Gods for their destruction to what the Goddesses loved.
    The Gods were warring while Goddesses were loving. Opposite sides of the scope but still together in their worships. The males hated my species, female and wolf while the Goddesses protected us with their life and their power. They were truly our protectors.
    Once the goal of rediscovering our love and returning to the life we once knew was realized, the real fight began and not just with another being as most stories tell, but with ourselves. The past, the present, the future. This is our story.

    * * * * * *

    Run, run for you life. Keep going until you can’t see him no more, maybe he’ll never notice you gone. No, that’s bull. He’ll notice and when he does, he’ll throw you into that cage and you’ll never come out again, he’ll just screw you right in the iron bars with a cement bed underneath you rather then the plush and feathers. You won’t be able to move ever again.
    You’ll make it. No you won’t, you’re dead. Keep running woman, put the distance between you so that maybe, just maybe you’ll have a chance. You’re hearing things, it’s not really him.
    Keep running stupid! No, it hurts, stop, rest, he’s too far back to catch you. No, maybe not. Is that him there? That’s him all right. Run! That’s it. Keep going, you’ve got it. He’s catching up!
    That’s all that could go through my mind as I ran through this horrid, maze-like house, searching for a means of escape. I had escaped the iron chains that held my wrists and ankles down to the bed like an offering, but now I had to escape him.
    I hoped that each shadow that passed my path wasn’t him, that each nook and cranny wasn’t his hiding space. I was scared, fearing my capture. I had to keep away from him or it was probably the end of my life. Slow and painful.
    Down the steps, my feet thudding over and over until I hit the bottom level. I had to run to the door, escape quick! Just a few more steps, just a few more bounds of faith and I could be free for the rest of my life, I needed to get out.
    I was near the end when shadows enveloped me and my body was forced to the carpet, my face planted into the fabric. He caught me, it was the end. I could hear his wicked chuckling as his body pressed over my naked form.
    “Now now my pet, why must you run?” he laughed. It was the end. His voice held the anger and humor all together. He would have his way with me, then decide whether to throw my body out or use it for later. Either way my existence would come to a painful end.
    He turned me over, leaving marks on my side and hip. His face was contorted into that devilish grin, the one that told me he was going to enjoy the beating to my body.
    No! You can’t let this happen! You must fight, fight for your remaining dignity, fight for your life even if you loose it in the end! Fight! You stupid useless idiot, fight!
    That’s what was went through my head when I surged up, smashing the heel of my hand into his nose, driving him back long enough for me to get up. It wasn’t enough to get out the door though.
    He grabbed me by the hair and swung me to face him, my back smashed into the hard wood door, the golden trimmings and details digging into my back. I knew there would be imprints there when everything was done.
    The grin was completely gone from his face, replaced by expressions of an angered demon. He was going to kill me as soon as he finished this one round. I was a dead woman for sure.
    He drove deep; his fingers clung heavily into the tendrils of my hair and his hips holding me to the door, his other hand holding my hands over my head. I was left open to him like a canvas.
    It hurt, I wanted it to stop. Please make it stop. His teeth dug into my skin, his hands leaving marks on my wrists. He was drawing blood. Oh god it hurt! I didn’t want this.
    I struggled, screaming for somebody, anybody, to come and find me. To free me from this every real nightmare. Perhaps death would be my freedom, I would be gone from his sight, able to move on and feel no more pain. How I longed for that.
    Finally one of my hands slipped free, I could move. I needed to get away, needed to free myself. The only way was to attack and quickly before he could grab my hand up once again.
    My hand slashed forward, driving into his chest cavity with strict determination, my werewolf strength piercing through his ribs, breaking the strong bones that made them up, to the beating heart.
    You have it! You have it! Now rip it out, finish it you idiot, free yourself, you can do it! Stop being such a wuss, do something for yourself so that you don’t have to answer to men again. Do it! Rip it from him just as he had ripped your dignity from you!
    I grasped it within my palm, snarling before I ripped it out in a magnificent show of crimson life, spilled onto the crimson rug along his upper torso. I held the beating organ in my fingers, watching it slow down before my gaze returned to him.
    You did it. You’re free. Now watch as he takes his last breath, watch as you out smarted him. You’ve killed your capture, your would-be killer, the man who made your life a living hell for so damn long. You’re a free woman.
    He stared at me in astonished disbelief, the life leaving his eyes in dulled glaze. His body created a heavy thud to the carpet, my freedom insured. But all I could do was stand there and watch his lifeless form in the same disbelief.
    You’re free. You no longer answer to anybody, you can run. Run while you know you can. This isn’t a dream! Run!
    So I ran.