"𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟, 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭'𝐜𝐡𝐚 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰?"
"𝐧𝐨, 𝐰𝐲, 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!"
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
in which a werewolf finds his mate in a witch, and a prophecy about a mysterious great alpha gets fulfilled alo...
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THEN
"I think it's time for you to go to bed."
"Really?" a four-year-old Carson Lupin asked, raising a bushy eyebrow. She was being carried into her bedroom by her father, who had just swooped her up in strong arms, forcing her to stop playing with her Lego set. "Because I think it's time for you to tell me a story."
If she couldn't play with the recent birthday gift from the Buchanan family, then she'd at least try everything possible to extend her time awake. Unlike most children her age, the young girl didn't grow tired as the moon rose in the sky — which was rather exhausting at times for her parents.
Weston Lupin held in an amused scoff at her response, unable to believe how much attitude could fit into such a small body. He told people that she got it from her mother, but he knew he was just as bad in his youth — truthfully, he was that bad up until he left his pack.
"Alright," Weston said, sighing. Then he dropped Carson on her bed from high up, smiling as she bounced off of it twice before settling down. "Which book? Beauty and the Beast?"
"Not in the mood," Carson said while climbing underneath her fluffy blue comforter covered in stars.
"Sleeping Beauty?"
"Boring."
"How about you give me a hint?"
"You know the one I want!" Carson practically whined. "The one about the king and his witch."
"The alpha, not the king," her father corrected, shaking his head. "You should know that if it's actually your favorite."
"Same thing," she mumbled. "Now, come on."
"Someone's very impatient," he said, shaking his head. "Alright. One day, the alpha stumbled upon—"
"No, from the beginning," Carson interrupted, moving to hit her father with a pillow. "Backstory!"
Weston snorted, knowing she'd only just learned the meaning of the word 'backstory' eight days ago from her mother. But it was Carson's favorite story to hear — even if it was more of a history lesson than a fairytale. Not a week went by where one or both of her parents recited it to her, but she was just as enthralled by it each time.
Deciding that her father wasn't speaking fast enough, Carson grabbed his sleeve impatiently. "I'll help you start. Once upon a time..."
A chuckle left his lips as he nodded and began. "Once upon a time, in the land called Seabrook, there were two groups of creatures—"
"The werewolves and the witches!" Carson said, excitedly. She would often interject in bedtime stories, claiming that she was helping her father remember.
