I stepped out of Mike's car slowly, smoothing down the dress he bought for me. The silver high heels I wore matched it perfectly, and the light makeup I had on gave my face a soft glow.
My emotions churned—excitement mixed with nervousness.
Mike stepped out of the car as well, almost in cinematic slow motion, wearing a sharp black American suit. He looked fresh, confident… breathtaking. A smile crept onto my lips. I still couldn't fully believe that this man was mine—that he loved me, and that he chose me.
He reached out his hand for me to hold.
Eyes turned toward us—many eyes. I wasn't sure if I was imagining things, but there was something in their gazes. Curiosity… or contempt. Maybe both. Lycans were always considered higher beings, future Alphas. And when their eyes met mine, I sensed something, though I couldn't tell what it was.
Were they mesmerized by me… or by the man beside me?
I chose to believe the latter.
Soft music played. Some Lycans were already dancing. Mike guided me to one of the tables, and I sat, letting my gaze wander across the beautifully decorated venue. I was too distracted by the atmosphere to even ask Mike why we were there in the first place.
He handed me a plate of food, and I accepted it gratefully. Just like that, the tension around me melted away. Mike always had that effect—he made my world feel lighter, wider, less suffocating.
I used to be nothing more than an ordinary, coward low-breed werewolf.
Everything changed when I met him.
We talked for hours, danced, laughed. His loving stares, gentle smile, and soft touches made me forget there could be anything wrong with the night.
But then, midnight came.
A loud chime echoed from the huge clock, and everyone paused. We were dancing when Mike suddenly stopped and slowly released my hand. Confused, I looked at him.
"H-hey…?"
His eyes were cold.
So cold.
The warmth he always held for me—gone. His gaze was heavy, unfamiliar, almost cruel.
Fear crept in as several Lycans walked toward us. The silent disappearances of werewolves… the rumors whispered in fear…
I couldn't understand.
The Lycans formed a circle around us.
Around me—and Mike.
"M-Mike… what's wrong?" My voice trembled.
One of the Lycans approached him and handed him a knife. I froze. Confusion twisted in my stomach.
The Lycans were smiling.
Devilish, hungry smiles.
Some of the women even giggled.
"M-Mike, w-what is thi—"
A sharp, burning pain exploded in my stomach.
I gasped. I couldn't even finished what I was talking.
Mike had stabbed me.
My eyes widened, filling with shock and betrayal. He pulled the knife out quickly, raised it to his lips, and tasted my blood. His eyes fluttered shut as he savored it.
Then he smirked.
"It's time for the main course."
He lifted me effortlessly and laid me across the long table. With his free hand, he yanked the tablecloth aside. Then he slit my neck lightly—just enough to let the blood flow—and filled a wine glass with it.
He drank without hesitation.
When he finally finished, he stepped back.
No explanation.
No remorse.
No love.
Nothing.
"Your turn, my fellow Lycans," he said with a mocking bow before leaving.
They lunged at me like starving predators.
"Don't kill her yet. Let her recover and bleed her again," Mike's voice echoed before he disappeared completely.
Then the fangs came.
"NO! No, no, no! Mike, please—HELP ME!" I screamed, but the Lycans didn't care. Their teeth sank into my flesh—arms, legs, neck. Some held me still, others drank from me gently, just enough to keep me alive. They wanted me conscious. They wanted me aware.
As a werewolf, I could regenerate, but not as fast as them. Every time a wound started to close, another set of fangs tore it open again.
I begged. I cried. I pleaded for mercy.
None came.
After nearly two hours, they finally pulled away. I was trembling, barely breathing, crawling toward a wall just to prop myself upright. My body was numb, cold, drenched in blood.
I thought it was over.
I was wrong.
One Lycan laughed. "Why don't we go to the most interesting part?"
"What?" another asked.
"Leting her run. Then hunt her. Whoever catches her first gets whatever blood she has left. As usual."
My eyes flew open in horror. There was no pity in any of their faces. Not a drop.
Mike was nowhere among them. He had abandoned me.
Everything inside me crumbled—fear, frustration, exhaustion, self-pity all crashing into me at once.
"Fine!"
"Good idea!"
"Call!"
Some Lycans cheered with excitement. Others looked annoyed—they knew they wouldn't stand a chance again against the strongest among them.
A large Lycan grabbed me by the arms and dragged me out of the venue. I couldn't even scream. The pain was too much. The strength to fight… gone.
And the hunt hadn't even begun.
When one of the Lycans gave the signal to begin the hunt, another instantly seized me by the arm and dragged me out into the open, throwing me forward like prey meant to run.
"One,..two,..and three!!!" I heard them cheering as I ran.
I ran with everything I had left, forcing my battered body to move despite the pain.
I could hear them laughing—mocking me—calling me names as if I wasn't one of their own.
I was the same species as they were… just lower.
A mere werewolf.
And compared to them, I was nothing more than a lamb.
A sacrificial lamb.
I knew nothing about their rituals or traditions. I realized I was right before.
I realized how fool I am for trusting and letting Mike in my life.
I should had always been the coward low breed werewolf, hiding and invisible to anyone.
The more I tried to understand why they were doing this, the more disgusted I became. Disgusted more than before.
Their reason. Their logic. Their purpose.
None of it made sense.
Regrets is what I have now.
Tears streamed down my face.
Exhaustion and pain throbbed through my entire body.
I forced myself not to cry, fighting back the sobs.
Thorns pierced my bare feet with every step.
Twigs lashed against my arms as I ran.
My shredded dress clung desperately to my trembling body—ruined by the Lycans who had clawed at me.
Silently, I hid in the tall grass of the forest I had fled into.
The Lycans were coming closer.
I curled myself tighter against the massive roots of an ancient tree, wishing I had magic—anything—to turn invisible.
I trembled uncontrollably.
My prayers turned into desperate whispers, begging the Higher One to save me.
Every rustle of leaves sent my entire body shaking.
My tears would not stop.
Then everything fell silent.
For a moment, I thought they were gone.
That I had finally misled them.
But I was wrong.
Three men leapt out from behind me, grinning—almost joyful, as if they knew I had dared to hope for safety.
I struggled. I begged.
But my pleas meant nothing.
They were deaf to mercy.
So I stopped fighting.
Pretended to surrender.
Pretended to plead.
Even though I knew none of them cared.
When the moment was right, I bolted.
I actually managed to put some distance between us—until I stepped on loose soil.
I slipped and rolled down a steep drop.
Pain exploded through me; it felt as though every bone in my body had shattered.
I pitied myself.
I truly believed they would stop chasing me.
But more of them appeared, drawn by the sound of my voice.
They descended toward my hiding spot effortlessly.
Hope drained from me.
My sobs grew louder, the cries of someone who had already accepted hopelessness.
Just as they were about to pounce on me together, the pack suddenly froze.
Behind me, leaves crackled.
The darkness deepened—then pairs of glowing, burning red eyes appeared.
Not one pair.
Many.
The sound that followed was a low, furious growl.
Hyenas.
That was the first thing that came to mind.
Hyenas weren't strong individually, but they traveled in packs—
and this forest… this was their territory.They hunt mindlessly.
Unlike werewolves or Lycans, they had no reasoning.
No self-control.
Only raw, savage instinct.
Werewolves could restrain themselves.
Lycans could think.
Hyenas could not.
And just like wolves, they hunted together.
Even the powerful Lycans never dared provoke them, because hyenas always came back—with more.
They preyed on anyone.
On everyone.
I saw the Lycans step back.
I saw Mike among them.
Some of them tried to move toward me—they would rather kill me themselves than let the hyenas feed.
But Mike stopped them.
Even after everything Mike had done to prove my worthlessness tonight, a part of me still wanted to believe in him.
But he shattered that last fragile hope.
"No… PLEASE."
I stared into his eyes, begging.
For a brief moment, I thought I saw worry there.
But it flickered away too quickly.
Maybe I imagined it.
Then a Hyena lunged and sank its fangs into my flesh.
The rest followed.
I screamed as their teeth tore into me.
They dragged me away from the Lycans like prey they refused to share.
Some clamped onto my legs, pulling me deeper into the forest.
I looked back at the Lycans.
I found Mike's face in the crowd.
Maybe I was wrong, but for a split second, I thought I saw concern.
But it was gone.
His eyes turned cold.
He gave me one last look, muttered something to the pack, and they left—one by one.
The world blurred.
Pain.
Heartbreak.
Sorrow.
A storm of emotions swallowed me as the hyenas dragged me into the forbidden part of the forest.
They stopped tearing at my flesh eventually, but the pain had already numbed.
Scenes flashed through my mind:
The first time Mike introduced himself.
The courting.
His words.
His smile.
His love.
His fake love.
Anger bloomed inside me—hot and bright.
A seed of fury took root, growing with every memory of him.
I screamed—loud, raw, primal.
And then I transformed.
Into the werewolf I never wanted Mike to see.
The form I always believed was my ugliest self.
I let out a howl.
Then I tore the Hyenas apart—ripping bodies in half.
I did something I never thought I would do.
I drank their blood.
It tasted foul.
But it awakened my regeneration.
My wounds knit together—not completely, but enough.
Hatred clouded my mind.
Madness clawed at my sanity.
I grabbed more hyenas.
Bit them.
Drank until their bodies withered dry.
Their blood burned away my reasoning.
Mike's betrayal replayed again and again.
My eyes bled tears.
My body dripped with hyena blood.
Some of them retreated.
When the last one fell, I released a sorrowful roar that echoed through the Forbidden Forest.
Finally, the adrenaline faded.
My mind cleared—and the pain of betrayal tore through my chest.
I shifted back into my human form and collapsed to my knees.
Everything replayed in my head, draining what strength I had left.
I wailed.
Letting my cry pierce the darkness.
Letting the silent forest witness my grief.
I curled into myself, trembling.
I was tired.
So tired.
Tears still streaked my face.
Sorrow drained the strength the hyena blood had granted me.
Darkness crept into my vision.
Before I closed my eyes completely, I saw two large wolf paws before me.
Not just any wolf—
a massive one.
A voice in my mind screamed at me to run, to save myself.
But weakness overwhelmed me.
Whatever happens… happens.