Morbius_King

Eleanor Lockwood, a woman who fled her family's werewolf legacy, finds herself thrust back into the world she desperately tried to escape. A brutal ritual names her the Alpha of the Lockwood pack, a role she never wanted. As she grapples with her newfound power and the responsibility it entails, a rebellion simmers within the pack. Agatha, a powerful Lockwood matriarch, fuels dissent, convinced the ritual was corrupted and that Eleanor is unfit to lead.

Haunted by a vision of her past – a man with her mother – Eleanor delves into the secrets of her lineage, uncovering a possible connection to a different, stronger bloodline within the Lockwoods. Meanwhile, she must prove her leadership through cunning strategy and displays of strength, both physical and mental. The trial by combat against Jacob, the black sheep, looms, but a greater threat may be lurking on the horizon.

Will Eleanor embrace her destiny and unite the fractured pack? Can she forge a new path for the Lockwoods, one that bridges the gap between human and wolf? Or will the weight of the past and the rebellion within tear the pack apart, leaving them vulnerable to unforeseen dangers?

Blood Moon — Tale of the Lycan Wolves

The oppressive twilight deepened into an unnatural darkness that settled like a shroud over the world. The cheerful chirping of birds, a constant backdrop to their journey within the Monolith, had vanished, replaced by an unsettling silence. Eleanor's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum solo in the sudden stillness. Hours, or maybe days, had blurred into a monotonous loop within the Monolith's grasp, but the crimson moon hanging heavy in the sky was a terrifying new development.

Abigael, ever the pragmatist, was the first to break the silence. "What the…" she breathed, her voice trembling slightly. "The time loop… it's broken."

The crimson moon cast an unsettling blood-red glow on the land wir. Time had indeed become a stagnant pond within its walls, the sun refusing to budge from its late afternoon position. This unnatural stillness gnawed at Eleanor's sanity. Her suspicions about Xol'thul had bloomed into a thorny garden of unease.

Descent into Darkness