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A Throne of Fangs

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Blurb

*This is a sample of a book*

It was said that the first wolves able to turn into men used their gifts to aid their human kings. That might be so…but how long, I wonder, was it until the wolves realized they were stronger than the humans they served?

Anaya was the heir of The West, one of the four packs that made up the Kingdom united by the first wolven turned to man, King Griffen. Her life is spent learning to lead her pack, until one day everything she knew shatters.

Bethany, one of her mother's ladies maids has s.educed her father after her mother's d.eath. She is with a child and finds a new arrangement for Anaya, so her child will be the heir. Anaya is bebetrothedo The Prince of the kingdom. She will gain a crown but give up any sort of actual power.

Lies unfold into truths, and she finds out the true reason she is there. Desperate to escape her new fate, she will do anything, even if it means giving the thing The Prince covets most, her v.irginity, to a powerful stranger.

Anaya is desperate to gain back a semblance of power. The longer she stays the more she finds out about the crown and the people they are supposed to rule. A change has to happen or else it might be the end for them all, and she is the one that has to make the change even if it means going against the crown itself.

**This is a shifter origin story, leaning heavily on royal romance and set in a medieval-ish fantasy realm**

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Prologue
**This is a sample of Throne of Fangs** Before my time, but not so long ago, humans ruled the four kingdoms. Call it evolution, call it the Gods, call it a balance of power, or maybe a fatal mistake, but some wolves turned into men. These pure-blooded wolf men claimed they were sent by their deity, who had made a pact with the human gods to help the humans. To keep the humans from annihilating each other and wiping out their existence completely. Or so the tale was told. The humans had many more tales, though, and it might have been the tales that kept us in a position of power we had barely earned. There were hushed whispers shared on loud nights when the wind's rage could not be tamed. They thought they were safe from the wolf men's prying ears. Tales were spun of the half-animals who couldn’t control themselves, and once rabid instinct took over, a single one of them could wipe out whole villages in the span of a single night. There were those stories that we were more monsters than even animals. On moonless nights, we traveled in packs of shadows, hunting virgins and children to feast on the blood of the innocent and send their souls to our deity. But as with anything, those stories started somewhere, and there was some truth in them.

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