The Curse of the Beast

r it to be dashed in an instant when the werewolf's glowing amber eyes turned to him, burning with fury. He could feel the creature's hatred emanating from it, almost like a ta

ation in her actions. But beneath her determination, there was an undercurrent of grief, a sorrow that Luke could only guess at. She had lost so much to the werewolves. Her parents. Her home. Her past. She had joined the Shadows, a faction that practiced not only martial arts but also dark magic, hoping to gain the power to take vengeance on those who had taken everything from her. But it was clear now, vengeance came at a price. And Luke could see that the weight of that burden was crushing her. He knew her better than anyone. She was driven by a need to avenge her parents, to right the wrongs done to her, but somewhere along the way, she had lost herself. And as much as she hated to admit it, the darkness of the Shadows was starting to consume her. She wasn't just fighting for vengeance anymore. She was fighting to survive. The werewolf's low growl brought Luke back to the present, snapping him from his thoughts. The creature's eyes were fixed on Mary, and it seemed to know that she was the bigger threat. Luke, weakened but determined, slowly got to his feet, his sword still in hand. "Mary, let me help you," he pleaded. "I can't let you do this alone." She glanced back at him, her gaze sharp, but for a moment, something softer flickered in her eyes. Then, in a voice so cold that it sent a chill down his spine, she said, "Stay out of my way, Luke." She turned back to face the beast, and in that moment, Luke knew that her heart was as heavy as his own. She wasn't just fighting the werewolf. She was fighting herself. The beast charged forward, its monstrous form cutting through the shadows like a blade. Mary reacted immediately, her hands raised, and a dark aura of magic surrounded her. The air thickened as she unleashed a surge of black energy that slammed into the prince of the werewolves, k