Slaves of the Moon: Hellbound Lovers

In an elitist Country, raised and dominated by Werewolves, a Werewolf– Especially one as promising and coveted as an Alpha mating a Human is an unforgivable crime.

Elizabeth Vilré is a product of that sin. A half Werewolf, half Human– a creature called a Myriad, hated and condemned by both Human and Werewolf kind, Elizabeth never imagined she would get her dream job- Finding the Werewolf Butcher Bleach- because she was the one thing that was hated.

But perhaps that dream job might have been a nightmare wrapped in candy, just like Oliviér Lé Fóix, her Alpha senior, determined to remind her the place of a Half breed commoner– Nowhere.

"A Commoner is worth more than a grain of sand, a Half breed is even worse, and you are both, the worst of two worlds, truly you are pitiful....but your fidelity happens to be worth more than both noble and commoner combined. Is that not an interesting fact?"- Oliviér Lé Fóix.

"I agree that aside from evangelism there is a sinful agenda but how can you judge my faith when you tempt me by standing in my house with your bare breasts in my sight?"- Sebastién Wright.

"You can pray we are interrupted so you do not say yes when I ask if I can rip your underwear and play with your pulsing little clit, Vixen."- Nicolas Dé Penthiévre.

"Haha, you've got me, I really have other plans besides seducing you into convincing that bastard for me, I want to fuck you, I mean the thought has been fucking me in the brain since I saw your bright and cheery face. I want my cock to tear that jaw."- Constantine Rousseau.

.....

A pair of blue eyes peered at the tedious environment surrounding the border of the legendary Hara Nation. The bold and angry sun cast down a ray of light at her head that leaned against the window of the carriage, illuminating on her blue eyes and making them twinkle like a hope diamond in the lake.

The moans and complaints from the other passengers resounded all of the carriage. Several male, female, and children clogged themselves in the much smaller carriage, smelling of piss and spit. The rough, and tanned faces held no warmth or happiness as they closed in on their final junction, merely scrunching into disgust that matched their complaining mouths.

"Finally, I don wait too long for this, yer boy must be hungry aye?" The thin, and frail woman, asked with her expression masked by her mud and sweat ridden face.

Her Vie accent cut through her words, reminding everyone she was not from the nearby villages. Villages close to Hara territory tend to adjust to the cultures and mannerism of the Hara people, including adapting to their accent.

Vie townsfolks had a less constrained and mannered way of speaking, their tongue was often described as the debunked version of English. It was broken, and crude, fitting of the Commonerfolks they were.

Commonerfolks from a Commoner Village.

A much younger girl, perhaps as young as the woman who leaned against the window with a relieved expression on her face nodded at the frail old lady, her hands tightening the hold on the little boy sleeping against her body.

She glanced at both the old lady and the girl with the boy. Her blue eyes cut from them back to the skies with a sigh. She had finally made it all the way from Vie town, so very far away from Hara, it was a miracle for Commonerfolks to make it this, let alone to the great city of Hara. That was a dream.

Naturally she was excited. Elizabeth Vilré had just graduated from the Junior Investigative Podium with excellent grades, earning her the opportunity and a letter of recommendation from her Headmaster for a job as a possible Detective in Hara Nation.

Now for a Commoner non-Werewolf, this was beyond a dream. When she was still a student in the Junior Investigative Podium, her classes had been filled with middle-class Werewolves, hoping to excel school finely and make it as an Investigator in Vie town.

But she had somehow received an opportunity to become not an Investigator but a Detective, not in Vie town but in Hara. It was unthinkable for a creature such as herself.

Her Mother has pleaded with her not to go. Stay in Vie town, perhaps with hard work and the prettiest of faces she would become a maid for a Middle-class Merchant, and if she was lucky enough he might even be a Werewolf who would take interest in her and take her as a concubine.

Yes Concubine. Werewolves would never be caught dead mating with a Human let alone something like Elizabeth. With her nymph-like features, delicate yet sinfully alluring especially with the mischievous shadow always dancing in her blue eyes, and her tempting lips that always smiled at others aimlessly, it would not be too difficult to garner the attention of a Middle-class Delta Wolf who would pick her as a treasured concubine.

Elizabeth shuddered at the thought. That had no place in her big dreams.

"Halt in the name of the Werewolf King!" A deep voice shouted from a small distance.

Elizabeth blinked, and ejected from her trance after hearing the voice, finally realizing that the carriage had long stopped moving.

She stuck her neck further outside to see. The Coachman had descended from the Carriage and walked up to a built soldier in the silver armour of a Foot soldier.

The Coachman was talking softly but the Soldier replied with a loud, "No, the Nation is currently undergoing changes, no pass, no entry!"

He walked away from the Coachman, ignoring him and attending to other travellers.

A frown appeared on the olive colored face of Elizabeth. She pushed open the door of the Carriage, and her polished back boots dropped on the scorching hot rough ground of Hara's border.

She craned her neck to the Coachman who had taken off his front faced cap in frustration and whipped it on the Carriage.

"What happened?" She asked the Coachman.

The tanned skinned Coachman looked at her from over his shoulder. "We're stuck, he would not let us pass,"

Her frown deepened. "That's preposterous, I thought you had a Pass?"

The Coachman breathed from his nose and gritted out. "Mine is useless now. They have been changes, and Green Passes are no longer usable."

She did not say another word, simply walking towards the Soldier. The armoured Soldier abruptly snapped his neck in her direction with his face screwed into a hateful expression. "I do you Coachman, they have been cha–"

The Soldier was stunned. His shining golden eyes, complimenting the bright rays of sunlight blanketing the sky. They remained unmoving on her face.

The Soldier felt the words dry in his throat upon saying such a gentle face, smiling as wide as possible that her pink gum were all out in display. Her pink jaw length curly hair covered most of her left eye but her right eye did not hide her fascinating blue orbs.

Perhaps exquisite was not the word to describe her, her features were just enough to send a pinch into the hearts of men and women. Adorable? Yes.

"Good day sir," she bowed her head, but such an act did not fit her, especially with her wearing a long sleeve dress shirt, fitted breeches, black boots, and a portable luggage behind her back.

The Soldier cleared his throat. "Good day to you Ma'am, how may I help you?"

Her smile breaking the impossible widened even further. "Pardon sir, but I came from that Carriage, over there," she looked from over her shoulder and pointed. "You have barred us from passing, Sir."

For someone from Vie Town her accent was impeccably close to that of a Harian. The Soldier began doubting if she was from the slave Carriage, if it was not for the much darker color of her skin as compared to a Harian.

"My apologies, Ma'am but a Green Pass is no longer legalized. We received an order from the Crown Prince that only Purple Passes are legalized now."

Her eyes bulged and her chest jolted a bit. She gasped. "Good heaven, Purple Passes? Even for Commoners?"

She knew how hard it was for Commoners to get a Green Pass let alone a Purple one.

The Soldier nodded.

She bit her inner cheek before reaching her hand to her buttoned shirt, and released a few buttons before bringing out a pitch black necklace of a Werewolves with its eyes being two tiny rubies.

"What about this? Does this work as well?" She tugged the necklace closer to the Soldier.

The Soldier opened his mouth to release a sound of surprise. The girl was holding a Werewolf Pledge from a high-ranking Noble Werewolf.

It seemed as if she was on a mission sent by some High-ranking Noble Werewolf. He could have his head cut off if he restricted her from passing.

"I– my Lady, pardon, I did not know you were a messenger of a Noble. You can pass, after all it is only you and the slave Carriage." He stammered, cold sweat rolling down from his head.

Nobles were hateful creatures, especially Werewolves. They killed lower borns as if they were chickens. He was only a Beta ranking Werewolf, what right did he have to protect himself against a Noble?

She nodded, with a smile renewing on her face. She returned back to the Carriage, telling the shocked Coachman; "We're free to enter now."

She stuck her head out the window once more, aiming to enjoy the pleasant feeling that spasmed through her when her eyes glanced at something.

She moved her eyes back at the figure that descended from a pure white horse. They were wearing golden armor, with the inscription of two serpents fighting each other on the armor's chest.

The Carriage had already begun moving, so the moment the figure took off the armor's helmet the person turned their head, leaving her to see only golden blonde hair.

She concluded that the figure was a man, from their neck and build.

She has not seen the face but she could tell from her direction his features were above average. "Handsome," she whispered.

She caught a pair of red eyes shift to the corner after she whispered, as if he had somehow heard her words.

Her lips twitched, she was trying to not laugh as she yelled. "Handsome man!"

Everyone else turned beside him, but she could tell he had a reaction from the jutted vein on the side of his neck.