Not for a love of the countryside, not for a love of nature, but from pure, unbridled hatred. She roamed these lush fields and admired the stately trees armed with a crossbow, determined to wipe out every wolf she crossed paths with. She didn't want to be a wolf-hunter when she grew up, it just happened. She had made peace with it. Her parents were still young, celebrating their sixth wedding anniversary when they were brutally mauled outside of a cabin rented for a special retreat. Lilith, only five at the time, remembered it vividly. How their coffins were closed because the mortician couldn't make them bearable for an open casket funeral. How she cried every night. How every night since she'd heard the wolves, could smell their presence, and vowed to eradicate them all. She had no time for play, no times for friends, and certainly no time for a significant other. Her calling, her destiny, was in collecting wolves. Abraham was conflicted, still learning his skills as a wolf shifter.
