Juiceypen

Elara is the last of her kind a hybrid born of forbidden bloodlines, half-werewolf, half-witch. Raised in secret by a powerful but reclusive witch, she’s spent her life hiding her true nature from a world that would rather see her dead than alive.

But when a fateful betrayal leaves her protector slain, Elara is forced into a brutal and divided world, where witches, werewolves, and humans fight for dominance. As whispers of an ancient prophecy arise one that speaks of a hybrid destined to bring balance or destruction Elara becomes the ultimate prize and the greatest threat.

Haunted by her past and hunted by creatures who see her as a weapon or a curse, Elara must embrace her dual nature to survive. Along the way, she forms an unlikely alliance with a mysterious stranger, who has secrets of his own and an unsettling connection to her destiny. Together, they will navigate treachery, forbidden love, and the unyielding pull of the prophecy that ties their fates together.

As war brews between nations and loyalties are tested, Elara must uncover the truth of who she is and what she’s meant to become. Is she the savior destined to unite the warring factions, or the force that will end them all?

With danger lurking at every turn, Elara faces a perilous journey of survival, self-discovery, and sacrifice where the ultimate cost might just be her humanity.

Help! I'm the Last of my Kind

I didn't realize I was shaking until my breath hitched in my throat.

No. That wasn't possible. That wasn't even something I could comprehend.

I backed away from the stranger, but he didn't follow. His sharp gaze stayed locked onto mine, like he was waiting for me to snap.

"You're lying," I said again, though my voice wavered.

His expression didn't change. "Am I?"

I clutched my arm where he had touched me, suddenly hyper-aware of the heat beneath my skin. A scent they could track? A mark I couldn't even see? It made no sense.

"This doesn't make sense." I turned in a frantic circle, my mind racing. "I... I'm no one! Just a girl trying to stay alive. Why would they...."

A deep, howl sliced through the air, and my breath caught.

The stranger stiffened, his eyes darting to the trees. I could see the tension in his posture, the way his fists clenched at his sides.

My body fueled by pure instinct. But the second I heard the snapping of branches behind me, I knew this time, I wouldn't outrun them.

A rustle to my right. Another to my left.

Panic surged through my veins. Think, Elara. Think.

I reached for the small blade tucked in my boot and whirled around just as a massive dark shape figure emerges from the trees.

A snarl. A blur of movement. The sickening clash of bodies.

The stranger he had moved faster than my eyes could process. One second, he was behind me, and the next, he was slamming into the werewolf mid-air, sending both of them crashing to the ground.

I stumbled back, heart hammering as I watched them struggle.

It wasn't just a wolf. It was a warrior.

Broad, armored, and terrifyingly fast. The kind of werewolf bred for war.

And the stranger.....he was keeping up.

Not just keeping up. Overpowering.

His body twisted with precision, dodging claws and countering every attack with an almost inhuman strength.

Then, suddenly, a second wolf barreled through the trees.

I braced myself until it didn't come for me.

It went straight for the stranger.

The first wolf snapped its jaw at his throat, and though he managed to dodge, it left him exposed just enough for the second one to strike.

The impact sent him crashing into a tree.

I gasped, my grip tightening on the dagger. I had to do something.

Before I could move, the first wolf turned to me. I saw the moment it recognized me.

It stilled, nostrils flaring as it inhaled deeply like it was trying to confirm something.

That was all the hesitation I needed.

It wasn't perfect, but it was fast. The blade landed right into the wolf's shoulder, and it let out a guttural snarl, whipping toward me.

I turned to run, but the second wolf the one who had thrown the stranger was already behind me.

I gasped, expecting claws. Expecting pain.

The stranger, battered but standing.

His eyes met mine for a split second. Then a flash of silver.

His blade sliced through the air, catching the second wolf across the chest. A fatal blow.

The first one, injured and enraged, let out a growl but then it hesitated.

Then, without another sound, it turned and disappeared into the forest.

The silence that followed was deafening.

My breath came in short, uneven gasps. My mind still hadn't caught up.

The stranger exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. "They won't stop coming," he muttered.

I swallowed hard, still gripping my arm. The mark.

"They won't stop until they have me," I whispered.

Chapter 6: Hunted, not Forsaken.