Chapter 1
Lilith
Werewolves never learn. Like a complete fool, he'd been seduced into my bed, assuming I desired him too. My mistake was permitting him to live long enough to realize the woman wrapped in his arms was a centuries-old, dark, cruel witch.
His eyes grew large as the glamour slowly slipped from my face, divulging the dark, protruding veins in my skin and the shadows surrounding me. My eyes had turned fully black.
One death glance from me was enough to send him backing away. With his cock fully erect, he staggered toward the door. Almost reaching the door, I angled my head and the lock turned. He hurried to the windows, and I repeated the act. A smile tugged at my lips as the Werewolves began to pound the door. I could scent his fear, and the panic of the Werewolves lingered in my mouth like honey.
"Oh, moon goddess! Please rescue me from this evil witch," he cried. Sweat clung to his dark skin as he begged.
"Your goddess has no dominion here," I spat as I slowly walked toward him. I gave him a moment to believe he could defeat me. A deep growl reverberated from his mouth. If I were a young witch, I would have been shaken by it. But I was old, and even as the man closed the distance between us, I let my magic consume me.
I permitted myself to enjoy the pleasure of hearing him scream as he begged for his life while I finished him. When I was done, the sheets were soaked with blood.
I was Lilith Blackheart, Princess, and heir to the Blackheart coven; a century-old witch bathed in darkness. This cottage had been my hunting ground for years, and the Werewolves my prey. I had killed them more than my own years, and even a dozen Lycans.
Even still, their numbers never thinned, nor did their centuries of hatred, as they burned my people alive every day.
As I clutched the werewolf's heart in my hand, I smiled. The Queen Mother would be thrilled at my tenth kill in just one day. My first kill had been at seven, when a werewolf abducted me. The werewolf, observing my diminutive size, tried to take advantage of me. But even at seven, I had the mind and power of an adult. I attacked, killed, and carved his heart, as the tradition of the Blackheart coven required. The Queen Mother, Morgan, had celebrated my first kill and instructed me to store it in a box. Ever since that day, I'd stored two hundred and seventy hearts in my box. In my world, power was defined by the number of prey hearts you claimed.
Just as I turned around, I found Morgan leaning against the wall. A little ovation was all it took for me to acknowledge that she was pleased.
"I am proud to have you as my daughter, Lilith."
At her words, I quickly climbed down from the bed and fell to my knees, bowing my head.
"Queen Mother."
"Rise."
I stood up.
"Do you know the reason I appointed you as my heir rather than your sister, Scarlett?" she asked.
I shook my head.
"Because of your strong will to destroy the Werewolves and Lycans. You've done an amazing job."
At the mention of my twin, Scarlett, I was suddenly reminded of the bitch. I almost made a sound of disgust. We were common in everything, but I was better than her in everything. Though we were twins, we had a deep-seated and prolonged enmity for each other.
Scarlett loathed me as much as I did, and we could only stand each other when we needed to work against our common enemies. Apart from that, we'd attempted to pull each other's hearts numerous times. Our hatred for each other began when we were sixteen and started training sessions. Morgan wanted a powerful heir to rule the coven after her death, and considering that each of us was interested in the crown, we fought each other. Repeatedly we tried to unalive each other, and the thirtieth time was bloody. Had Morgan not intervened, we would have both lost our lives. After that, she made us swear before her that we would never try to unalive each other again. If we did, she would burn us in front of everyone.
"Morgan, I haven't seen you in twenty days. Considering you never appear in my hunting space without demanding something, what task did you bring me this time?"
The corners of her mouth lifted softly. "You are right. I've come bearing an assignment for you." She slowly pulled herself from the wall. "This time, it will be slightly difficult. But like other times, I believe you'll make me proud."
"I hope so."
She opened her palm and willed a portrait to appear in her hands. Blackheart witches have no need of spells when we could will anything with the power we held. A long time ago, before everything changed, we were different. We were referred to as the favoured or divine ones. We lived in the gardens and weren't referred as evil beings. Even when darkness threatened to rise, we eliminated it instantly.
The elder witches sang, and when their voices rose to the sky, they created beings with magic. They created the Werewolves and Lycans. Seven young virgins gave up their lives for the creation of these beings. As the Werewolves and Lycans coexisted with us, a darkness began to form in the mind of the Lycan, spreading into the Werewolves. The Lycans were strong and were able to hide it without their creators knowing, but the witches realized it through the Werewolves. By then, it was already too late. The Elder witches were killed, villages burned. The Lycans and Werewolves turned to the moon and served her as their goddess. The blasphemy to us witches!
Following the command from their goddess, they started hunting and burning those who refused to bow to them. They burned dozens of witch covens. But the Blackheart coven; the strongest witches who refused to bow and chose to fight, turned our hearts black. We indulged in the darkness that the Lycans formed and consumed ourselves fully by it. As time went on, we became powerful, but our mind were tainted with this darkness.
With the help of the Elders, we bound all the witch covens to Blackheart's. But it wasn't everyone who accepted this path. Some repudiated the offer of wielding dark magic and bowed to the Lycans and Werewolves. They served them. And just like with the Werewolves, we hunted and killed those traitor witches.
I, Lilith Blackheart, have never tasted good. I was born into darkness.
The oval frame was placed in my hands. A young man stared back at me with tanned, golden skin and short dark hair. Naive red eyes glowed from his dark face.
"Who is he?" I asked even though I knew who he was. A white hot anger burned through me. I loathed the smiles of Werewolves and Lycans, for they possessed everything my people ever longed for. A modern world with cars, cellphones, mansions, etc. During the war between the two kinds, we were driven into exile. Witches were forced to survive in forests and mountains and till now, we live like we were still in the eighteenth century.
"He is the Lycan Prince. Twenty-five years of age. He might look naive and innocent, but be wary of him. Every patch of earth the Lycans step on is tainted with blood of our people. No water can lessen the spread of bloodshed dug into that kind. They have killed far more witches than you could imagine."
I frowned. Now I wanted to strike the smile from his face.
"You are to meet this boy, and when you see him, destroy him."
"Or better, have me finish the job and kill his uncle, the Lycan King?" I asked.
"No." Morgan shook her head. "I desire to see the Lycan King dead, but it's a risky mission. The King is far too dangerous for you to handle alone, Lilith."
"Do you think me weak, Morgan?" I asked.
"No. But the Lycan King is very powerful. His mansion is under the protection of witches; they would sense what you are the moment you set foot there."
When Morgan spoke of witches, she didn't mean our kind. She meant the good ones, the so-called meek, divine witches who bowed to Lycans and served them like hounds.
Still, I believed I could kill him.
"Are you listening to me, daughter of Morgan?" she whispered. "You would travel to their world. Make the Prince fall in love and end him. Scarlett will assist you in creating a fake name and backstory. Remember, you must act sweet and coy when you meet him."
"What?" I quickly stood up. "Travel to their world?"
"Yes."
"I am the heir of the Blackheart coven. I cannot leave beyond our territories unless during hunting hours."
"It has been decided that you are to leave."
I frowned.
"This is an important task that must be finished soon," she continued. "You have thirty days to kill the Lycan Prince, Lilith. When you kill him, it will pull the Lycan King from his home, leaving him vulnerable. I and some of our coven witches will attack the king at the Prince's home."
I frowned. "If I leave, Scarlett will have a better claim to the throne than I. What if she succeeds in making you reconsider me as your heir?"
"My," Morgan smiled. "Your sister does not have what it takes to take the throne from you. But if she succeeds, that would be partly your fault. Every moment you waste there, she spends with me, ruling this coven."
I gritted my teeth, stormed out of the house, and stepped into the dark night. When I returned, it would be with the heads of not just the Lycan Prince, but the King himself.
As the night air brushed my skin, I smelled something familiar. I swiftly realized that I wasn't alone. All of a sudden, my back was slammed against a tree by a cloaked figure. The dark skin and familiar smirk gave her away.
"Scarlett, bitch." I smirked, and instantly propelled her toward the opposite tree.