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Gilded Heart
In a world where Humans and Werewolves are divided, in separate realms, sharing only one common enemy; hybrids. Half-human, half-werewolf offspring, creatures of destruction. In a time of war between Humans and Werewolves, they turn to each other to kill the vermin of the land, to kill the hybrids.
When Ameerah, the sole-surviving hybrid, hidden by her grandfather, stumbles upon and is taken by the Werewolf King himself, she is left to face with the reality of the world and their hatred towards hybrids. Upon being a guest in the Royal castle, she faces and learns the curse which plagues the royal bloodline, the truth about her kind, and makes it her one purpose to release the stigma latched onto hybrids.
​ Then again, why does the Werewolf King spare the one and only hybrid?
Prologue
During the dawn of time, man lived peacefully, carefully, making a life for themselves, cultivating the earth, electing officials, setting governments. In a time of peace, the Moon Goddess made her creation, a man turned into wolf and thus werewolves walked amongst them. Humans feared them instead of rejoiced, they fought and murdered in the streets, and for many long years there was a war between man and wolf. Divided and always aware of one another, cautious, bloodthirsty.
Their division, their war, only came to a conclusion when the emersion of hybrids came to be. When the Moon Goddess was so saddened by her two creations constant battle and bloodshed, she sought to create a bridge between man and wolf, to make half-breeds who would unite the two sides and end the war once and for all.
However, man and wolf, instead, turned their hatred towards them. Hybrids were strong and fast in their human form, extremely powerful in their werewolf form, and uncontrollable, unstable. For once in history, man and wolf joined sides to massacre the half-breeds. The War on Hybrids began, led by the werewolf King, the Mad King; Donovan Helldane. The Helldane bloodline was said to be the first line of werewolves to ever exist, ancient Lycans, purebreds, gifted with long-life, extreme strength, and their wolf was twice the size of an average werewolf.
Men and wolves fought alongside each other, burning down villages and homes, killing and murdering hybrids. Men, women, children; any who were hybrids died by their fangs and their silver swords. They did not stop. The murdering continued until every single hybrid was wiped from existence, no matter how hard they tried to run, hide, or fight; it was a battle they were never meant to win.
Donovan Helldane killed the last hybrid by his hand. The Mad King entered the home of his dear friend and alpha, Ephraim Axel--the second-oldest werewolf bloodline--and his mate, the Witch Queen, Adonia. With no mercy and nothing but pure madness and rage, the King slaughtered their child, murdering Ephraim when he tried to attack and unleashed the rest of his rage upon the Witch Queen.
Floating in the pool of her blood, her mate and husband's, and her infant child's; Adonia used the rest of her strength to place a curse upon the Mad King and all the other Helldane's to come.
"You will pay for the death of my husband and my child. You will suffer the same pain you have inflicted on all these people. You will face the worst pain in your entire life, far worse than death and blade. When you find your mate you will mark her, impregnate her, taken over by a beast unlike wolf, and when your first-born is birthed, the beast will murder your mate and you will never be able to stop it. You will face the worst pain, the worst suffering, and it will be done by your own hand and you will live and survive until the beast kills you and it will be passed to all first-borns. All male first-borns. Helldane's will never forget what they have done today. You will never be able to remove this curse unless the unkillable beast be killed. With the blood of my love, my child, myself; I curse you."
It was something the Mad King would never expect to happen. His wolf form became an even larger beast, animalistic, brutal, inhumane. He found his mate later in life, though he desperately feared the day to come. Just when he believed her curse was nothing but an attempt to scare him--that there would be no way a werewolf could murder their mate--when his first-born son came into the light the beast took over and murdered her.
The Mad King sat isolated for decades, chained to his own misery, riddled with a broken heart and suffering from the worst pain until the beast grew too powerful, too strong, and killed him. Outgrowing his body, breaking every bone, giving him the worst end to his horrible life. Once the beast was gone, it appeared within his son when he came of age and the curse continued in a twisted, endless cycle.
​ When the War on Hybrids ended, man and wolf continued their alliance and lived separately, in different realms with different rulers and rules. However, even with every last hybrid killed, man and wolf never let go of their hatred towards them and man hunters scouted forests searching for them, werewolves did nearly the same.
For centuries, hybrids ceased to exist. Man and wolf carried on with their lives, separated and in peace.
The Moon Goddess, however, so heartbroken with the divide and the hatred of hybrids and the unnecessary slaughter, she gave one single Alpha the mate of a human in her final attempts to fix the hatred in their hearts.
Alpha Reinald Rolayne of the Golden Moon Pack found his mate, a human woman, a waitress, Iris Joynore who worked at the Midnight Stop inn on the borderline of his pack's land. Their love blossomed like any human's love would and their mate-bond persevered like any werewolf's would.
But word circled, his pack caught wiff of her, finally understanding where their alpha constantly ran off to. She was pregnant already, by then, her pregnancy going quick as she had a half-human, half werewolf growing in her womb. They were on the run. Reinald's pack was after them. While they were on the run, she gave birth to their baby. In a secluded pond, deep within the forest. The labor was intense, the pain unbearable. Iris fought and struggled and barely managed to get their baby out and into the world before the rest of her life went into the child. Reinald'd heart shattered, like his chest was being ripped in half. He carried their child, his pack still close behind, and the pain in his chest made him weak, made him slow. It took every ounce of his being to leave her, to let her body float and lay to rest in that pond.
Their baby was healthy and strong and so very beautiful. Born with the hybrid white hair and her eyes golden, so very golden. She held the same features as her mother and Reinald held her so close, running with her in his arms, trying desperately to get her to safety.
The pain in his chest was so unbearable, so gut-wrenching. He could feel the bond snapping, like a sword going straight through his chest, slowly, but not killing him. He fought members of his pack off with one hand, members he trained with and worked alongside with were now his enemy.
He knew where he was going and he was determined to get there but one after another, a member got closer and would injury him and he'd defeat them to get away but it continued until he had fought off every enemy and until he was covered in his own blood and slashes, gaping wounds and scuffs. His healing, his wolf, was betraying him from the pain of losing his mate, not allowing him to close the wounds.
He was crawling, by the end, holding his daughter so close, so tightly, until he finally found that house in the clearing, the one he'd been looking for.
His father, a familiar face, another werewolf who lost his mate, emerged, rushing to his side. "Reinald!" he shouted, knowing the scent of his son, smelling the amount of blood and pain coming from his one and only child.
Reinald collapsed onto the earth, in his fathers flower garden. "F-Father..."he choked, blood pooling at his lips.
"Son, what has happened? Why are you not healing?" his father insisted, his attention turning towards the child in his hands. "A hybrid," he fought the urge to flinch away.
"My daughter," he said, choking still, his father looking at him with wide eyes. "P-Please...you have t-to...take care of her. She...she will be..the bridge...one day..." he was fading, he could feel the Goddess reaching for him, feel Iris. "I am going to the...G-Goddess'...palace...please k-k-keep her...safe. My Ameerah."
He watched his son fall limp, dying from his wounds. Tears streamed down his face, his mate and now his only child. He grabbed the infant girl from his bloodied hands, saw the white hair and glowing golden eyes. Ameerah. He held her close, placing his forehead upon hers, crying softly.
He knew by taking the child in he would live a life of constant threat, he and the child both. He would raise her, teach her how to be a warrior, to hunt, to survive, but teach her to be humane. He would teach her to be good. Just as he taught his own son.
The fate of their lives was now in the Goddess's hands. If they were meant to survive and live, unnoticed by the world, then it had to be by the Goddess's will.
​ "Ameerah Rolayne," he spoke softly, brushing her cheek slightly. "The hybrid."
Chapter One
"Ameerah!" Maynord Rolayne shouted, father to Reinald Rolayne and grandfather to the young woman he was now searching for. "By the Goddess, where has that girl run off to now?" he muttered, standing in his garden, searching the tree-line for her, listening intently.
"I'm right here," she said and he jumped, whirling around with such speed to find her smiling there, giggling at his reaction.
The legends and stories about hybrids were true. Hybrids were extremely skilled. Extremely deadly and lethal. They snuck up on werewolves and that was no easy thing to do. Werewolves were known for their keen senses, their hearing and smell were unmatched, but he could not so much as smell her in the air, let alone hear her.
"You are getting good at that," he commented, smiling proudly at her. "Masking your scent. What a raw, natural talent you have. Only purebreds can do that. Have you been practicing all on your own?"
She nodded happily. She had grown into a mature, young woman. Now at the age of twenty. She was strong and extremely fast. She learned everything he taught her and perfected it and performed it better. She also grew into her beauty, her hair long and white and wavy, her eyes always shimmering like the finest of golds, she was tall for a woman her age and agile. He was proud.
When his journey began with raising her, he knew the risk he was taking by having a hybrid in his life. He had to put aside his own, generational hatred he felt towards hybrids, finding a new chance at life by raising her into a gorgeous, intelligent, strong woman that she was. In many ways, he found himself envying her. As the days had passed and she learned and grew, she became more and more like a werewolf than any werewolf he'd met. Her connection she had with the Goddess and the other abilities she acquired from her was incredible. She was so in touch with nature, so aware of the earth and world around her and the beauty in it all. He did not know if it was just a blessing or blatant ignorance.
He still couldn't bring himself to explain to her the reality of her kind in this world. They've been lucky these twenty years to have no issues, to run into no one and to have no one find them but he knew the day would come. It would be an endless battle for her everyday, everyone and anyone will try to kill her in any way they possible can.
However, with watching her over the years, she had become the most skilled and talented warrior he ever had the pleasure to train. Even far greater than himself. She was an even greater hunter, reciting the same prayer every time she took a life and crying every time she watched the life drain from them, claiming she could see their pain, where it was, and watch it leave their body.
"Don't think I've let you off the hook," he said, smirking at her. "You know the rules."
She let out a breath. "I was just helping an injured bird, I've been taking care of it for days now. It can almost fly!" she tried to reason. "Please, I know the rules. I remember every single one of your teachings and I've never even smelt anyone come within one hundred miles of his place. Can't you trust me?"
His eyes widened slightly. "A hundred miles? You can smell that far?" he said, caught up on the least important part of her comment. He shook off his amazement, crossing his arms over his chest. "It is not that I don't trust you, Ameerah. You know that."
"And when will you explain to me why exactly? All these years I have trained and worked hard, I have followed your rules but I have never understood what threat lies in this world. What am I training for, grandfather?" she asked, her brows turned upward, begging, pleading.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, letting out a deep breath. "Ameerah, I will tell you everything, I will. Until that day, trust me, listen to my words. It is what your father would've wanted."
Her head fell and she nodded. "Yes, I understand."
"Now, now. You're not in trouble so don't look that way," he said, ruffling her hair, causing her to swat his hand away. He chuckled at her. "Let us hunt for dinner, shall we? What should we have tonight? Salmon? Rabbit?"
"We've had rabbit and salmon for the last six months," she said, flattening her hair back down. "Could we travel further? Maybe find deer? Something different."
His eyes narrowed. "We already travel far enough for food, Ameerah. Come, let us see what we can find first."
She nodded her head, following after him. They walked into the forest, walking side-by-side, not yet going into hunting mode until they reached the usual area which had prey to stalk. Ameerah's curiosity grew and grew as she got older. She wanted to know more, see more, of the outside world, of what lies beyond this forest she now knew like the back of her hand. What dangers made her grandfather scared? What was he protecting her so hard from?
Ameerah was always a good child. Always listening and learning from her grandfather, asking questions when permitted and always only the right question. She hardly asked about anything she knew she was not welcome to know, such as the outside world, why she's stuck in that little cottage day and night, what happened to her parents--but her curiosity was beginning it get the best of her. She wanted to know more now, understand more. She wanted to learn everything she could learn about herself and what the world has to offer, whether that be good or evil.
"Grandfather," she called wistfully, her voice soft and melancholic. It caused him to slow down a bit so he was walking beside her, looking down at her now down-turned face, the brightness in her eyes dimming.
"What is it, Ameerah? What is the matter? What has you so upset?" he asked, stopping to gab her shoulders, facing her towards him.
"What happened to my parents? I mean, I know you've mentioned my father vaguely and I know well enough that they are not alive but--" she had to take a deep breath, releasing it in a sigh. "What happened to them?"
He swallowed hard. He knew the day would come. He knew it would come. Although he had hoped for many days and nights that she would not bother to ask, he couldn't expect her not to. At the very least, she deserved an answer on that. She deserved to know the full-truth, about everything.
"Do you trust me?" he asked her, watching her lift her head to finally meet his eyes, nodding slowly. "Trust in me, I will tell you everything. All that you need to know and deserve to know but not right now."
"Why not now?" she asked, her voice raising. "Why can I not know? What are you protecting me so hard from?"
"Dinner," he said, sighing heavily. "I'll tell you tonight at dinner. After we hunt, after we sit down and eat, I will tell you. Okay?"
She opened her mouth to protest but shut it, forcing the words that wanted to spill out back down her throat and instead nodded.
"Come, let us hunt for a feast."
She smiled slightly at that, following behind him once again, heading towards the area which normally had such things as rabbits and coyotes, and the stream which had salmon and bass. Sometimes they were lucky and could catch wild pheasants, but that was only on rare occasions. Once they reached that spot, they both crouch down into stalking positions, hiding behind tall brush, scoping the area.
"Do you see anything?" he said so quietly and she pointed, far between two trees was a rabbit, chewing intently on a fresh patch of grass it found. He was shocked, yet this was not the first time he got to see her abilities, he was always surprised and bewildered by just how powerful and talented she was. The rabbit with which she pointed to was nearly 800 feet away and even he had to strain to see what she saw, yet her golden eyes were locked on target.
"A pheasant," she muttered so quiet, but he could not see it.
"Where, Ameerah, where?" he whispered.
"Past the rabbit, 200 feet. In a clearing."
Now that was truly out of his eyesight, so far out of reach that he knew not what she spoke of. "We haven't had pheasant in a long while, Ameerah. Shall that be part of our feast?" she nodded, robotically. Her eyes were trained on the bird so far away, yet to her the bird was glowing gold, she could see it as if it were right in front of her.
Maynord shifted into his large, wolf form. His wolf a deep brown, like the color of the damp dirt beneath their feet and the color of the bark on the trees around them. His eyes were a beautiful emerald green, also blending right into the lush green of the forest.
"Are you ready?" his voice came out, quietly, deeper than his human voice.
She nodded, pulling out her dagger, a leather handled dagger he gave to him. Unlike werewolves, hybrids could not shift into a full-wolf form. Well, as far as history was concerned, their ability to shift was unreliable and detrimental to the hybrid.
In a flash they both took off, Ameerah was running close to the ground, faster than Maynord was. He always found himself amazed while watching her, she closed in on the pheasant in a matter of seconds, killing it in one swift movement before the pheasant even knew what was happening.
She knelt before the large bird, staring so intently at her dagger which now protruded out of the pheasants side. Maynord walked up beside her, late to the slaughter, watching as that same melancholic look fell over her face.
"May Goddess take you," she whispered, placing a soft hand on the side of the birds neck. "May she welcome you into her palace of moonlight. May you find peace, may you rest."
She pulled the dagger from the birds side, sliding it back into her holster. She tied the pheasants legs together sightly, making a handle, and throwing the bird over her shoulder.
"I only want salmon with it. I will head back to the house," she said softly.
​ She turned away from him and walked slowly towards the house, Maynord watching after her. Although she tried to hide it best she could, he knew she hating killing. It was something very uncommon amongst hybrids. Everything she was, everything she did, was the complete opposite of what hybrids were, what they've always been. It was like she was never a hybrid, too pure to be a werewolf, it was as if she were the Moon Goddess incarnate.