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In a time where prime pyromancy is almost extinct, Anastacia’s Beltran is one of the last surviving witches of the lineage. Having lost both her parents; her mother to madness and her father to murder, she's taken in by a nomad chef. But her life takes a different turn when a series of unpredictable events occur in quick succession, threatening her well-laid plans. And her freedom. When this threat extends to the lives of the people she has known, she is no longer fighting to prove her innocence but to save her life too while trying to reconcile her new identity and forbidden powers with the person she has been. In an interesting turn of events, Anastasia's fate leads her to meet and fall for the man who is partly responsible for the horrors she has gone through. Rocked by betrayals, stunning revelations and deeply buried secrets, can the cynical stripper let go of her inhibitions and wariness to fight beside the one man who has given her no reason to trust him?


It was a few minutes past midnight and the highway that ran through Belleville was deserted, like a wasteland. Salvador stood rigidly at the forest's edge. Bathed by the light of the full moon with his eyes scanning the street. He had been waiting for more than an hour.

As the wind picked up and whistled through the trees, he tensed up in anticipation of the coming storm. There was something in the breezy air that he could not quite put his finger on. Or maybe it was just him.

The rush of cold air did nothing for the sheen of sweat that appeared on his forehead. Tension crackled through the air. He could feel goosebumps erupting on his skin. Salvador balled his hands into fists and ran his tongue over his protruding fangs, trying to clear his mind.

It hurt to move. Or even attempt breathing.

"Lady Woodstock better get here on time," he said to himself. "Can't hold out much longer."

His skin paled. The low throb in his temple spelt the onset of a migraine. He scrunched his eyes against the dull pain in his temple. It was getting increasingly difficult to concentrate. His irises burned as they changed from their piercing blue colour to a flaming yellow and he cursed under his breath.

Then the moon rose. Radiant and enchanting. Its frosty glow is like a pearl in the black sea. The sudden crunch of his bones had Salvador dropping to his knees, trying to stall the transformation. His heart stopped for a split second before thudding wildly in his chest again.

The thump of his heart was punctuated by the sound of knuckles contorting into wicked claws and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Shreds of the clothes he had on lay on the ground and his eyes reflected with a yellowish glow. The worst was yet to come. This thought sent a quick wave of panic swirling through him.

His facial skin squelched as it stretched painfully. The wolf's muzzle protruded with blood dripping from the split and he whimpered softly, unable to scream anymore due to his torn vocal cords just as silvery fur burst across every inch of his form.

Hunger twisted inside of him violently. A visceral growl escaped his throat. The chances were slim but he hoped whoever it was would move before the thirst got worse.

He curled up on the ground, trembling. There was only one thought in his head as he lay there, his fur drenched in blood. Food. Salvador inhaled the scent of human blood before he heard the voice

"I am going to see you when I return," A man's voice said. The voice was deep and raspy, rousing Salvador. He crept through the dirt path carefully.

From the corner of his eye, Salvador turned to watch a stranger bent over a flat tire while mouthing words to someone on the other end.

He eyed the stranger with as much discreet curiosity that he could muster. Dressed in black slacks and a crisp white shirt that clung to his body, he was oblivious to the presence of his attacker right behind him. Long brown hair hung across his face, falling on his shoulders as his gaze lowered downwards.

He was deeply immersed in his conversation. Salvador didn't have much idea about how the device in his hand worked, but it was obvious from his demeanour that the person on the other end was important.

The wolf let out a whine, startling him. Alain jerked upwards, staggering away at the sight of the predator. He was fighting to get his breath back. For a second, he looked like he would puke but managed to straighten up.

Salvador's senses picked up the stench of his fear.

"Are you okay?" The voice on the other end asked.

Not willing to scare her, he took a deep breath and nodded. Strangely, his voice evened out bearing no hint of the pure terror that was racing through his veins.

"Yeah, I'm fine." he muttered while struggling to recall all the episodes of "Surviving in the Wild" he had seen and what he was supposed to do to escape a wolf. His fight or flight instincts had been activated. Alain tensed for a moment and pulled back.

"Stare in its eyes. Looking away shows signs of fear," Alain recalled suddenly and peered into the animal's soulless eyes. His stomach clenched with anxiety at the sight in front of him. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck rose.

Silvery, with a pale belly. The horse-sized wolf stared back. Its emotionless eyes constructed with the thick, silky fur that danced as it moved.

'There was something wrong with this town,' Alain thought. Belleville had had no reports of sighting wild, endangered species and there wasn't a zoo for miles. If there was a wolf lurking, then someone should have seen it.

Stacie. Her shift was going to be over in a few minutes and he had looked forward to seeing her tonight. She was the last thought in his mind as he stared death in the eye. Knowing that his time had come. The weight of the ring box in his back pocket suddenly got overwhelming and he regretted not giving it to her earlier.

Not giving him any chance to scream, Salvador pounced, ripping his throat in one fluid motion. The phone clattered to the ground beside his tools. He crouched, lapping the warm spurts of blood to quench his thirst.

His fangs tore into the exposed throat until it collapsed. Salvador spit out the gold chain that he had on from His mouth before gorging on the fresh meat he had needed.

He ripped as much flesh as he could. His hunger and the pain dulled. The splatter of blood stained his white fur red and

"Alain? Are you there? Alain?!" Salvador gave a backward glance at the gadget talking on the ground, before vanishing into the night.


Outside the door of the changing room in Club Des Rois, a group of curvy petite women stood with their duffel bags hanging on their shoulders, packed and ready to leave. They looked alike, with the same bright coloured weaves and dresses that clung to their bodies.

"Anastacia? Are you ready to leave yet?" Zoey, the only Caribbean exotic dancer at the Club, called out to her. She grabbed her bag and began walking through the double doors.

Anastacia kicked off the six-inch stilettos she had spent most of the night dancing in. She flexed her sore foot and reminded herself that there were worse jobs than having to rub her body parts against a pole in killer heels.

"I'm just going to take some time to clean up and change, I'll be ready to leave in no time. You don't have to wait on me though."

The noise receded as the ladies walked away and Anastacia heaved a sigh of relief. She crossed the distance to stand in front of the mirro


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