Sorry its been so long guys. This is a small little chappie to whet your appetite until the nest big chappie. Thanks for reading.
The harsh wind made Anya's eyes squint and water, but she barely noticed the chill. She stood on her balcony watching the busy villagers readying themselves for what lay ahead. Had it been already been thirteen years since she had been turned? It seemed like it had been only yesterday. For the past ten years the castle had been under constant attack from the death dealer army. Her heart clenched in pain at the thought of how many of her people had died at the hands of those ruthless monsters...and all because of her.
A young boy fell to his knees beneath her. He had been carrying more than he was able to. The desperation of the villagers was evident in such acts. His mother helped him up and looked accusingly up at her before continuing on her way. Ever since she had ordered the evacuation of the human members of Cachtice from her lands she had been the recipient of many such stares. But Anya knew she deserved it. Because of her decision to become a werewolf those short years ago, tragedy and loss had been the constant companions of Cachtice. In her need for revenge she had been blind to the consequences of her misguided actions. Farkas had warned her, but she had not listened. A knot formed itself in her throat and a sob almost escaped her lips. Farkas. He had been among the first to die in the carnage the death dealers had brought upon them. Anya turned angirly from the balcony and her bitter memories and made her way inside. There was nothing she could do about it now, all she could strive to do is salvage anything she could from the mess she had made of her situation. A single tear brimmed over her lashes and it had nothing to do with the wind.
Lucian studied the papers before him and sighed. Anya had nearly emptied out the treasury trying to help the people with the move. Damn it all, she was going to ruin them with her ridiculous attempts at redemptioned. Didn't she understand? They were already damned, all of them. Every single breath they took in this world was one too many. The only reason he did not end his wretched existance with a silver dagger to the heart was because his lycans depended on him for leadership and guidance. And of course he had yet to take his revenge from the bloodsucker responsible for the death of his Sonja. The only woman he could ever love. The thought brought Anya to his mind again. He cared for her, yes, but did not love her, not as he had once loved his vampire mistress. About five years ago he had taken Anya to his bed but made sure she knew that that was all she would ever get. His heart had been shattered, it was simply not capable of sustaining love anymore. She said she understood, but he knew she still hoped. Anya loved him, he could see it in the gleam of kindness in her eyes as she looked upon him. Her will always melted to his, well except in the matter of the villagers.
Lucian sighed as he remembered their argument. She had looked so beautiful and terrible in her anger. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes flashed with temper. Her face was proud and defiant, even considering her state of undress. A small smile graced Lucian's lips. He did care for her, deeply. He only wished he was capable of giving her what she needed, his love.