7 August 2012
The gates of hell beckoned me forward. My tight, white dress hugging my form as the restless werewolves at my back sent rumbling growls through the very rock beneath my feet.
Blood-painted nails caressed the cream scroll tucked in the belt at my waist, the long looped letters of hell's language spelled out the true names of each wolf-man. They were the children of hell, sent out to ravish the earth.
I stood for a moment, relishing my poise. The great night wolves were mine, my pack, my force to reclaim my husband's hell as my own.
My alpha, a giant white wolf stood at my side. I took a moment to examine his black, hungry eyes.
"Rip out his throat, Marco," I murmured to him through crimson lips, "Throw him into the flames."
His lips drew back in a silent snarl, showings the strength of his pearly weapons.
My heels clicked on the black rock as I strode through the twisted gate, the arch an inferno-polished mix of bones and igneous stone. Soulless skulls looked out, guarding against the living.
Stepping through, heat and bitter cold wash over me as one. The wolves growl, following behind me.
"Honey, I'm home!" I call out, half my face pulled into a smile as I watch my pack head forth to claim what is rightfully mine.
The Devil's Wife | 3 • Opuss № I