The Cursed Lycan
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Just then, he reached out and touched me. His large hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing dangerously near my lower lip. The dungeon air vanished, replaced by the scent of leather, and steel. He peered deep into my eyes, and in that instant, I thought of first time, that weird feeling of connection, waxing even stronger now.
It was impossible. This man was an enemy. Associations with his kind are regarded as abominable.
Narnia never imagined that she would be sent to the side of that man in place of her sister—the infamous, cold-blooded king and commander Elias Varon, who hated werewolves and vowed revenge for her parents' deaths at their hands.
She had prepared herself for death, but a mysterious bond connected the two of them. Even more unbelievable, she seemed to develop an uncontrollable affection for this destined enemy.
Caught between a fateful bond and the vortex of conflict between two races, what will become of Narnia?
It was impossible. This man was an enemy. Associations with his kind are regarded as abominable.
Narnia never imagined that she would be sent to the side of that man in place of her sister—the infamous, cold-blooded king and commander Elias Varon, who hated werewolves and vowed revenge for her parents' deaths at their hands.
She had prepared herself for death, but a mysterious bond connected the two of them. Even more unbelievable, she seemed to develop an uncontrollable affection for this destined enemy.
Caught between a fateful bond and the vortex of conflict between two races, what will become of Narnia?
