HVWW ROYALS

In a world ravaged by ancient disease, humans became prey. Vampires, werewolves, and hunters carve out territories, each battling for survival and dominance. As the Princess of the Royal Hunter Tribe, Carissa Vasileiou, a ruthless Soul Huntress, leads her people in a brutal war. When a mission goes awry, Carissa finds herself captured, then unexpectedly allied with a mysterious, purple-eyed werewolf prince. Can this fragile alliance survive betrayal, hidden agendas, and the resurgence of forgotten powers, or will it shatter, plunging the world into deeper chaos? Dive into a realm where survival means hunting souls, and even love can be a weapon or a curse.

HVWW ROYALS

In a world ravaged by ancient disease, humans became prey. Vampires, werewolves, and hunters carve out territories, each battling for survival and dominance. As the Princess of the Royal Hunter Tribe, Carissa Vasileiou, a ruthless Soul Huntress, leads her people in a brutal war. When a mission goes awry, Carissa finds herself captured, then unexpectedly allied with a mysterious, purple-eyed werewolf prince. Can this fragile alliance survive betrayal, hidden agendas, and the resurgence of forgotten powers, or will it shatter, plunging the world into deeper chaos? Dive into a realm where survival means hunting souls, and even love can be a weapon or a curse.

The chill of the night air bit at Carissa’s exposed skin, a familiar sensation she barely registered. Below, the sprawling camp of her Hunter Tribe buzzed with a muted intensity, the glowing orbs overhead casting long, flickering shadows. Men and women, clad in their distinctive blue and white robes, moved with a purpose, weapons glinting faintly in the artificial light.

She stood at the edge of the rocky hill, a solitary figure observing the preparations for the night's raid. Her gaze swept over the main tent, where maps marked with grim X's lay waiting. Tonight, the target was the Tane Clan, a formidable Royal Vampire family. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched her lips. This was not merely a mission; it was a hunt, and Carissa, the Soul Huntress, lived for the thrill of it.

A bad premonition, a whisper in the back of her mind, tried to surface, but she ruthlessly suppressed it. Such weakness had no place in war. She adjusted the golden sword at her waist, the familiar weight a comfort, and touched the glowing blue pendant at her neck. The moon, a sliver of white in the inky sky, seemed to watch, silent and indifferent. Soon, blood would stain the snow.