The full moon loomed high above the valley, casting an ethereal glow over the battlefield where dragons clashed with werewolves. Roars and howls filled the air, shaking the very earth beneath them. Flames erupted, claws tore through flesh, and the war between these two ancient races showed no signs of ceasing.
Hidden among the ruins of an ancient temple, a young man trembled in the shadows. Xian Ren, a mere servant to the dragon clans, watched in silence. He was powerless, a forgotten orphan raised among dragons but never truly one of them. While others cultivated their flames, soaring through the heavens, he was left to sweep floors and serve wine.
That was, until she appeared.
A woman cloaked in moonlight stepped forward from the darkness, her silver hair gleaming like liquid stardust. Her presence made the air crackle with an unfamiliar energy. She wasn't dragon nor mortal—she was something beyond comprehension.
"You are more than what they made you believe," she whispered, her fingers tracing symbols into the air. Before Ren could react, her palm pressed against his chest, and fire consumed him from within.
Agony seared through his veins, but as he collapsed, his vision blurred into something else entirely. When he awoke, he was no longer in the ruined temple but in the Moonlit Abyss—a forbidden realm where only the strongest beings dared to tread.
A presence loomed nearby, primal and wild.
Lyria, the Moonfang Alpha.
Her silver hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, her piercing amber eyes glowing under the night sky. She radiated an aura of power that made Ren's breath hitch. But it wasn't just her power that stole his breath—it was the raw, intoxicating allure that clung to her every movement.
Lyria circled him like prey.
"You reek of dragon's blood."
Ren's muscles tensed. He knew that dragons and werewolves were sworn enemies, that even standing in her presence was a death sentence. Yet, he couldn't move. Not because of fear, but because something deeper, something ancient, called to him.
"And you," Ren countered, his voice steady, "reek of moonlight."
Lyria smirked. "Do you think I'm afraid?"
His pulse thundered, but he held her gaze. "No. And that's why I'm still standing."
A low growl rumbled from her throat, but instead of lunging at him with claws bared, she took a step forward, her fingers brushing his jaw. A jolt of electricity surged through him at her touch, his body reacting to her presence in ways he couldn't understand. He had never felt this before—this heat, this raw desire coiling deep in his gut.
"You don't even know what you are, do you?" she murmured, tracing a line down his chest.
Ren swallowed hard, his own instincts battling against him. "I'm nothing. Just a servant."
Lyria's eyes flashed. "No, you're not." She pressed her palm against his chest, and suddenly, images flooded his mind—visions of dragons, of moons, of something buried deep within him. His bones burned, his skin tingled, and his power—a power long suppressed—awakened.
His body reacted before his mind could comprehend it. He reached for her, pulling her against him, his lips crashing into hers with a force that sent both of them spiraling. Lyria didn't resist. Instead, she met his hunger with her own, her nails raking down his back, drawing fire and fury from within him.
Power surged between them, a forbidden energy neither dragon nor werewolf should possess. It wrapped around them, binding them together as their bodies moved in a rhythm as old as time itself. Their breaths mingled, their souls intertwining as one.
When dawn finally broke, Ren lay beside her, his body changed.
His eyes glowed like molten gold, his skin humming with newfound energy. He was no longer just a servant. He had become something else—something forbidden.
Lyria propped herself up on one elbow, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Do you realize what we've done?"
Ren exhaled, his hand brushing against her cheek. "We broke every rule."
She smirked. "And yet, I don't regret it."
A sudden roar from the distance snapped them back to reality. The dragons and werewolves had sensed the shift, the unnatural merging of two opposing forces. They were coming for them.
Ren and Lyria stood together, their bodies still humming with the remnants of their night. They had become something new, something impossible.
And when the armies of dragons and werewolves came to destroy them, they did not run.
They fought.
For love. For power. For the future of a new era.