Love Blossoms under the Blood Moon

In the forest, Yvette Hawthorne raced through the trees, trembling, and did not dare to stop. Terrifying roars kept coming from behind her.

She had never expected that her step-sister, Lena Hawthorne, whom she had always thought to be gentle and kind, would have tricked her to the werecreatures' turf, where humans were not allowed to enter, and a place from which no one had ever walked out alive.

And a male werecreature who had lost control and was in beastly form kept closing in on her, pressed his burning hot body against hers, and all she could do was endure what he did to her.

Afterward, she fled in panic, trying to hide everything crazy had happened the previous night.

Then she discovered that she was pregnant.

Her father, Brenton Hawthorne, however, for the sake of a small benefit, gave her to Calvin Travon, the notoriously brutal earl who was said to kill without mercy.

The moment the gates of Travon Manor closed behind her, a pair of golden, beast-like eyes fixed on her.

"Whose child is this?" Calvin demanded, his voice sinisterly intimidating.

But the familiar scent on him made her eyes widen in shock.

...

Some werecreatures yelled, "No matter where you go, I will catch you, you human!"

Barefoot, Yvette sprinted through the forest.

Her dress was already torn to shreds by thorns, blood streaming down her calves; the pain shot through her legs as she ran, nearly making her collapse.

But she dared not stop. Those werecreatures behind her had been chasing her for a long time.

They were not ordinary werecreatures from any packs. They were outcasts, banished from territories of their packs.

Not bound by any pack laws, these outcasts delighted in torturing and slaughtering humans, especially human women, who were weaker.

They would sexually assault those women, tear them apart, then dump their corpses deep in the forest.

Above her hung a bright, eerie blood-red moon, making it hard for her to see the path ahead clearly with its dim light.

When the Blood Moon hung in the sky at night, humans absolutely must not approach the edges of werecreatures' turf.

Though humans and werecreatures shared the same continent, they had despised each other for generations.

Many ordinary people who accidentally wandered into werecreatures' turf never returned.

Yvette knew this perfectly well.

Yet she had gotten here anyway, because just a few hours earlier, Lena had told her that her fiance, Edwin Bailey, was waiting for her at the edge of the werecreatures' turf, and that he had something important to say in person.

Yvette believed her, as Edwin had never lied to her before.

But instead of Edwin, she found herself surrounded by a group of outcast werecreatures who had long hungered for human prey.

In that instant, Yvette realized

that Edwin would never deceive her, but Lena would.

"Why are you running so slow? Tired already?"

One of the pursuing werecreatures taunted her, his laughter rough.

"Human women really are soft and weak."

Yvette turned pale and found the taste of blood in her throat.

She knew she could not be caught.

If they seized her, she would certainly die.

She squeezed her eyes shut and dashed forward with all her strength.

But the footsteps behind her only grew louder and closer.

Just as despair was about to overwhelm her, Yvette spotted a faint glimmer of light deep within the Dark Forest ahead.

It was a cabin, standing alone in there.

She had no idea what lay inside.

It could be her salvation, or something even darker and more horrible.

But she had no other choice.

Gritting her teeth, she forced her legs to move, running toward the cabin with all her strength.

Still, she was too slow.

After only a few strides, a sharp claw got hold of the back of her neck.

The searing pain made her vision blur, and she stumbled and fell into the mud.

The werecreature with dark gray fur watched her fall, a sneer curling his lips.

His gaze fell on her body, filled with lust and contempt.

Yvette's fingers dug into the dirt, and her heart gradually sank.

She thought sadly that maybe she really would die here today.

As the werecreature raised his claw to strike again, Yvette closed her eyes.

Strangely, she thought it was somehow a good thing that she could die today.

But just then, an intimidatingly overwhelming power emanated from the cabin.

All the werecreatures squatted down and froze in place, fear flickering in their eyes.

"Damn it,"

the werecreature with dark gray fur muttered. He shot Yvette one last grudging glance, then raised his claw again.

Yvette's lips twitched stiffly, and then she glanced toward the cabin from the corner of her eye.

Softly, she whispered, "Could you save me just once more?"

But it was already too late. The werecreature with dark gray fur had slashed across her neck with his sharp claw.

Suddenly, Yvette smelled a thick sense of blood.

Yet the werecreature with dark gray fur before her instantly disintegrated into a spray of crimson mist.

He did not even have the chance to scream.

Yvette stood frozen at the cabin door, breath caught in her throat.

The remaining werecreatures turned pale and shrieked as they fled into the depths of the forest.

The entire forest fell deathly silent. Only the crackling of firewood in the hearth remained.

Slowly, Yvette turned her head.

Inside the cabin, there was no hunter nor border guard, only a man seated in shadows.

He was tall and imposing; the black robe hung open and unrestrained, part of his face concealed by a dark silver mask.

And the only thing of him she could see clearly were his golden eyes.

The dangerous aura radiating from him made Yvette realize instantly that she had not gotten to a safe place.

She had merely run away from a pack of outcast werecreatures to a high-ranking werecreature who was even more dangerous.

The male werecreature sat slouched in his chair, long fingers gripping the armrests so tightly his knuckles had gone pale.

The fleeing werecreatures had not gone far; they lingered at the edge of the forest, pacing restlessly there.

But they did not dare approach, only letting out low, fearful growls tinged with frustration.

Yvette stood rooted to the spot, trapped between two choices.

She knew that if she stepped outside, the werecreatures out there would snatch her immediately.

But if she stayed, she knew she would face an even more terrifying monster.

Firelight from the hearth flickered gently.

Finally, Yvette had made up her mind and then carefully walked toward the male werecreature.

Cold sweat broke out across her back.

His voice was low, hoarse, and icy, as if he were barely restraining something.

"Get out of here," he snapped.