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Broken Heart Lycanthrope Origins
Broken Heart ReTurns | A Werewolf in Willowherb
Hi, everyone! I thought the origin mythologies of the lycanthropes would be of interest, especially to paid subscribers who are reading A Werewolf in Willowherb (and might not be familiar with the original Broken Heart series).
It is said that the Moon Goddess wanted children, so she took her wolf form and mated with an alpha named Tark.
She gave birth to twins. The firstborn was a wolf of black. And the second, a wolf of gray. Her oldest son had the ability to turn from human to wolf. However, her second-born could only assume his wolf nature on the night of the full moon.
The Moon Goddess’s sons grew up, and soon they wanted wives and families. The Goddess offered her firstborn a beautiful female wolf, which she gave the ability to shift into a human.
To her second-born, the Goddess gave a beautiful female human. Since her son only assumed his wolf form during the full moon, she gave his mate the same ability.
And so, some lycanthropes are full-bloods, shifting whenever they need, and others the Roma, shifting only on the full moon.
This story has been told for generations from father to son, mother to daughter, of the lycanthrope heritage.
It is, however, a lie.
We must also consider the unexpected branch of the lycanthrope family tree: the loup de sang.
In 1807, a small group of loup garou emigrated from France to the town of Vincennes, the capital city in Indian Territory. Among the newest arrivals was the widow Chantelle Marchand, who was eight months pregnant. She made the long, treacherous journey to the United States to join the pack of her father, Jacques Marchand.
Not long after Chantelle arrived, a territorial dispute erupted among the loup garou and the deamhan fola—vampires. The pregnant widow was among the casualties of a short, but brutal skirmish. Unfortunately, the vampire who killed her also tried to Turn her.
As she lay dying, her father delivered triplets: the first was a son, Gabriel, and then a girl, Anise, and another son, Ren—all with the same strange condition. They were alive, but could only gain nourishment from blood. Gabriel was given to a lycan outcast. Anise and Ren were sent to live among the Vedere psychics.
Marchand’s grandchildren were the first ever blood-drinking lycanthropes, and it was he who coined the term loup de sang. However, in his diary, he wrote only about the birth of Gabriel. He never mentioned Gabriel’s siblings.
So, for reasons unknown, Marchand lied, too.
Then, years ago, when renowned prophet Astria Vedere was still very young, she made a prophecy:
A vampire queen shall come forth from the place of broken hearts. The seven powers of the Ancients will be hers to command. She shall bind with the outcast, and with this union, she will save the dual-natured. With her consort, she will rule vampires and lycanthropes as one.
Alas, this, too, is a lie.
Well … sorta.
If you haven't already, then read Because Your Vampire Said So and you'll hear all about the Marchands, along with the love story of Patsy and Gabriel.
None of these tales include a whisper about the only known royal lycans—the triplet princes of all werewolves who are neither full-bloods nor Roma nor loup de sang.
The story of their origin is not a lie.
It’s a secret.
Okay, okay, it used to be a secret. That secret was revealed in Must Love Lycans when the royal lycanthropes’ immortal parents, Aufanie and Tark, imparted the truth to Kelsey (who is now Damian’s mate).
Excerpted from Must Love Lycans, which is told from Kelsey's point of view:
"Nearly a century ago, I made a bargain. It was necessary, but part of the terms included my departure from the earthly plane,” said Aufanie.
“Forever?” I asked.
“Only a hundred years—and I could not reveal the details of the bargain. The moment it was struck, I was barred from your world. But though I disappeared, my wolves did not lose their faith. Then several decades ago, I failed my children when they needed me most. Damian stopped speaking to me. Almost all of them did. Before that terrible night, you see, when they said their prayers or whispered their hopes, I could hear them. It gave us succor.” Tark clasped his wife’s shoulder. She offered him a grateful smile. “It has only been bearable because of Tark.”
“He took the bargain, too?”
“He was the bargain,” she said softly. Her expression shifted like mercury, and I knew I would get no further information. My instincts told me that was a conversation she wanted to have with Damian. I had no idea why Damian and the other werewolves had chucked their religion out the proverbial window, but if I knew anything about the man, it was not a decision made without cause.
“Can you sense my emotions?” asked the goddess curiously. “Or his?” She nodded toward her husband.
“I wasn’t trying.” I lowered my shields and attempted to discern their emotions. Nothing. It was exactly like trying to read Jarred. “Is that a god thing?”
“In a way,” she said. “You’ve known someone else you cannot read.”
I nodded, unsure where my ex-boss fit into the picture. “Jarred Dante. He’s like you?”
“He is … and he isn’t,” she offered. She looked at me apologetically, obviously ill at ease with her non-answer. Then she said, “You must persuade Damian to go home, Kelsey—to Schwarzwald.”
I blinked at them. “You want me to convince Damian to go to Germany?”
“To the Black Forest, to the place and the hopes he abandoned there. You must both be at the temple on the eve of Winter Solstice—to prepare for our arrival. The few priestesses who still loyally serve me will know what to do.” She smiled sadly. “I once had many names, but my favorite was Aufanie. You may call me that if you wish.”
“Okay.” My head was starting itch from drying shampoo, and I felt chilled even though the air wasn’t cold at all. I wrapped my arms around myself as I felt a sudden, awful foreboding. “I’m not going to make it, am I?”
“You were never meant to be one of us,” said Tark kindly. He even looked a smidge sorry.
“But she will be,” said Aufanie firmly. “Damian has chosen her. And we will not fail our son again.”
Tark looked down at his wife, his gaze filled with tenderness. I didn’t have to be an empath to sense the deep and abiding love they had for each other. I felt a soul-deep ache as I watched them. I wanted what they had. And I knew—the same as I knew the earth was round and the sky was blue—that I could have that kind of love with Damian.
You know, if I didn’t die.
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