Malodorous odor filled the atmosphere engulfed in smoke. Cruel laughter of the rogues is the only sound which could be heard in between the chaos trying to shatter the foundation of humanity.
The houses were ransacked brutally and again a whole village is wiped out without a spilling a single drop of blood.
The King of Rogues watched the whole ordeal without blinking, he despised those weak creatures who didn't used their full potential to achieve what is fated, instead they accepted to be tied down to a mate and live the life of nothingness.
He killed his own mate with his bare hands; the shine dimming in her eyes satisfied him to his core, no more interruptions and obstacles in his ambition.
And now his ultimate dream is coming true and soon he would be the undisputed King of the werewolves.
All because of her. The Rouge King wrapped his arm around her shoulders trying to distract the petite girl but she remained rooted in her position. He hated everything which could be breathing but her......oh! He loves her.
Why wouldn't he? She is his strength, his biggest weapon but is she? No the girl is his pride. The only thing which he loves far more than his ambition.
On the other hand her mind is swirling with self—loathing and soul being devastated.....again. She is the reason of this catastrophe, is the sole reason why the Rogue King managed to win each and every battle without losing a single soldier.
A lone tear trailed down her cheek followed by others.
"Hush sweetheart, don't cry. You saved them, no one died." Her head snapped to him in fury.
"You are a monster!"
"No my love, you are a monster." His hand gently moved her chin in the direction of the destruction.
"Look at their figures, once living but now carved into stone, heart no longer beating and blood no longer flowing, they are dead and sweetheart I didn't made them that way, you did. You took their chance of life away."
"My Lord! The victory is ours."
"I KNOW YOU FOOL! MOVE AWAY FROM HER SIDE." The rogues were not all bad and the perfect example of that was the subordinate commander Lucien.
He saw her crying and couldn't help himself but scoot closer to comfort her. She is dear to Lucien and his heart clenched when he realized it was inevitable that she would be used again and again till her soul cracks with the burden of lives she had taken.
And the day will not far when the filthy Rogue king paints the entire kingdom red with blood to ascend the throne.
But if the Rogue King would be the Highest Lycanthrope Monarch, what would it make the silver haired girl who had her small fists clenched and crystal tears streaming down her face?
It will make her the heiress of the throne of Lycanthrope, the only daughter of the Rogue King— Princess Medusa.
Oh you wish it was that simple.
In the crushing of Lycanthrope foundations not a single corpse was found. Medusa made sure to leave absolutely no survivor.
Survivor— it wasn't even the word which they would be associated with if the Rogue King had his hands on them. The methods of torture would be tested on their numb bodies and that would be too much for her heart to bear.
Bloodbath was their extreme desire, a flame so herculean that sometimes they ravaged one another to quench the sick thirst.
They hunted for mates, to get their brutal hand on a woman whom they can call theirs but it seemed like moon Goddess Persephone was watching upon them and so she made sure they never got one.
Medusa was said to be a gracious gift from the goddess herself, her destiny written from the golden ink is said to change the course of fate.
A prophecy was made when Medusa was born— either her choice would make the saplings of humanity to be planted deep in mortal realm or it would totally eradicate it from the roots.
As she grew up her eyes cried for the cruelty in the world and heart devastated that she couldn't do anything other than gifting a peaceful sleep of demise.
Each second felt like eternity and each breath felt like a burden, the girl born with silver silk hair and the most beautiful lilac eyes is just existing.
Her prayers were comprised of her death and ultimate wish that the Alpha King of Lycanthrope kills her father.
The Rogue King is stronger than her but the time will come when his powers would die out like ambers in a flame and that day Medusa would strike.
She was suicidal and it wasn't a secret to the rogues. The horrific screams of people in anguish when they saw her beautiful hair turning into white snakes, capturing their soul which turned their body into stone was horrendous.
Anguish did that to her, whenever her extreme emotion ruled the snakes would make their presence seen taking the place of silver hair.
The sight was so magnificent and powerful that it would make any one turn into stone but one— her father. He was immune to her powers, but unfortunately he wasn't immune to her strength.
Three more moons and she would rebel against him.
A man was on his knees, his head bowed down as silver whips lashed his back— an entertainment for rogues.
They were starving for hurting a soul for so long.
