Stolen Soul, Hollow Victory

I thought my husband was protecting me from a rare illness. The pills, the isolation, it was all for my own good.

Then I found the ancient contract.

He wasn't my savior; he was my jailer, siphoning my werewolf essence to fuel his family's empire.

The contract stated it clearly: 'The Luna's essence, once transferred, cannot be restored. The vessel shall remain... diminished.'

I wasn't sick.

I was being mined.