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.