Chapter 1 Prologue - The Prophecy They Tried to Kill
The Prophecy They Tried to Kill
Before Ysara Hartwell was ever found on the steps of a human hospital, the supernatural world had already bled and fought to completely erase her kind.
Long before she laughed too loud, or loved too intensely, or built a career that made men lose their minds online, a prophecy had been etched into stone with the last breaths of a dying race.
A prophecy so dangerous....it made the most powerful beings on Earth unite to destroy every trace of the bloodline it described.
They called it:
The Prophecy of the Mirrorborne Queen
Born of flame and hunted breath,
the last Mirrorborne shall rise from death.
With heart unbound and bonds of choice,
she wakes the world with Ravelyn voice.
When Moon and Mirror join in crown,
the kings shall kneel, the thrones shall drown.
Ten shadows guard, two suns shall stand,
blood unbroken shapes the land.
The Broker falls in shattered gold,
the Exiled Wolf shall break his hold.
What once was purged shall rise again,
and love shall bind where war has been.
No one agreed on the meaning.
But everyone agreed on one thing:
If the Mirrorborne ever returned, every throne would tremble, and fall.
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THE SUPERNATURAL WORLD BEFORE THE FALL
Before humans filled their cities with noise and lights, the supernatural world existed openly.
Species lived in courts, kingdoms, and clans:
• Lycans - the apex of wolfkind, ancient and nearly indestructible
• Werewolves - their descendants, numerous and loyal
• Vampires - high courts bound by blood and politics
• Fae - light and dark, beautiful and cruel
• High Fae - the god-touched nobility of the fae realms
• Demons - lords of the Nether planes
• Witches - covens tied to earth, moon, or blood
• Dragons - rare, powerful, and elemental
• Titans - giants forged of stone and storm
• Sirens & Merfolk - rulers of the deep waters
• Djinn - magic wielders bound to ancient laws
• Elementals - living forces of nature
And at the top of them all was a ruling body forged from necessity and fear:
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THE APEX CONCLAVE
The Conclave was not a government. It was not a council of peace. It was a barrier. A wall against chaos. A circle of rulers who agreed on only one doctrine:
Power must never fall into the hands of a species capable of binding others together.
The Apex Conclave consisted of:
• The High Fang - ruler of all wolfkind
• The Blood Sovereign - ruler of the vampires
• The Thorn Queen - High Fae monarch
• The Arch-Spellweaver - witch supremist
• The Infernal Arbiter - demon lord
• The Scaled Regent - dragon emperor
• The Earthshaker - titan warden
• The Tide Monarch - siren ruler
• The Storm-Binder - djinn king
• The Primal Archon - elemental sovereign
Eleven seats. Twelve, originally.
The last seat, once belonging to a rare species called the Mirrorborne Ravelyn, remained empty.
A silent reminder of a genocide completed.
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THE RAVELYN - A RACE TOO POWERFUL TO LIVE
The Ravelyn were not warriors. They were not conquerors. They did not lead armies or forge empires.
They did something worse: They united people.
A Ravelyn could bond with any species and amplify:
• desire
• loyalty
• instinct
• magic
• strength
• emotion
They were mirrors, reflecting the deepest truths and potential of anyone they touched.
A bonded Ravelyn + a powerful mate could shift entire political structures overnight.
Wars ended. Clans merged. Enemies became allies. Power shifted uncontrollably. The Conclave could not regulate them. Could not control them. Could not predict them.
So they wiped them out.
Efficiency was the point. No survivors. No heirs.
No exceptions.
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THE NIGHT OF THE KILLINGS
The Mirrorfall Directive was carried out in a single night across continents.
Witchfire burned through Ravelyn villages. Fae assassins slit throats in silence. Dragonfire scorched forests full of families. Wolf packs, once allies of Ravelyn, howled as they were forced into compliance.
It was a coordinated extinction.
By sunrise, every Ravelyn settlement was ash.
Every child was accounted for. Every lineage recorded was totally destroyed. Every name was struck from the Conclave archives.
Or so they believed.
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THE LYCAN PURGE
The Conclave feared the Ravelyn…
But they feared the Lycans bonded to Ravelyn more.
For centuries, Lycans were the apex predators of all wolfkind. They were stronger, larger, faster, and far more magically attuned than werewolves.
But after the killings, the Conclave turned on them next.
The official story said the Lycans were too volatile. Too strong. Too old.
The unofficial truth: A Ravelyn bonded to a Lycan could topple kingdoms. Most Lycans were slaughtered.
Only:
• Aldric Wylde, the High King
• His young twin sons
• Ten elite warriors
…survived.
Those survivors became the entire future of Lycan kind. Everyone else became werewolves, and the world forgot Lycans existed.
But the Conclave never truly forgot.
They simply… waited. And wondered.
Had they killed them all?
Had every Ravelyn burned?
Had every trace of the prophecy been erased?
No answer ever came. So the Conclave assumed their sins were complete.
They assumed wrong.
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THE CHILD WHO SLIPPED THROUGH HISTORY
Eighteen and a half years before this story begins, a baby girl was found wrapped in an unfamiliar blanket outside an emergency room. She was crying with a ferocity that startled even the night shift staff.
Nurse Maren Hartwell scooped her up, and whispered soft reassurances.The infant stopped crying instantly.
Daniel Hartwell arrived soon after, bleary-eyed and still in his teacher clothes. He looked at the child with her bright, dark eyes and said:
“She’s got a stubborn soul. Poor kid probably fought her way into existence.”
They filled out the paperwork. Brought her home. Named her Ysara Hartwell, and raised her beside their daughter, Lila.
Ysara had no idea she wasn’t born a Hartwell. She had no idea her birth parents died the night the Conclave finished its purge. She had no idea her blood was a ghost the world thought buried long ago.
She had no reason to suspect she wasn’t human.
Except for the… intensity.
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THE GIRL WHO WAS ALWAYS TOO MUCH
Ysara wasn’t a quiet child. Or an easy one. She felt everything like a tidal wave.
Her therapists described her intensity as:
• emotional volatility
• unstable attachments
• impulsivity
• self-sabotage
• extremes in love and rage
• hypersensitivity
• identity fragmentation
• reckless behaviors during distress
Borderline Personality Disorder, they said gently. And maybe that was part of it. Ysara didn’t disagree.
Her emotions were hurricanes. Her attachments were wildfire. Her impulsivity made her dizzy with want and regret. Her desire for connection was deep enough to drown her.
But she also loved harder than anyone she knew. Protected what was hers with feral loyalty. Felt joy in blinding colors most people only read about.
She wasn’t broken.
She was just built too brightly for the world she lived in.
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At 18, Ysara Hartwell is everything the Hartwells silently feared and secretly admired:
• curvy like a renaissance painting but strong as hell
• thick thighs, soft waist, generous hips, plush breasts
• long, multi-colored hair, sunset pink one month, ocean teal the next
• big brown eyes that sparkle when she laughs
• full lips perfect for trouble
• freckles dusted across pale skin
• multiple piercings: nostril, septum, nipples
• tattoos climbing her thighs and ribs like vines
• a body built for sin and softness
• a personality built for chaos and honey
She works a respectable job, dresses professionally during the day, and no one, not a single coworker, knows her secret.
Because Ysara Hartwell runs a highly successful OnlyFans. A very successful one.
Her content is unapologetically erotic. It includes rope work, lingerie sets, and playful kink shoots. Her personality pulls people in. Her curves keep them there. Her intensity makes them obsessed.
Her fan count exploded the moment she turned eighteen. She jokes it’s because she has “unhinged hot girl energy.”
She’s not wrong. And her bio? That’s where her feral heart lives.
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YSARA HARTWELL
OnlyFans Bio
"If you wouldn’t chase me barefoot and naked through a forest and claim me, don’t bother messaging me."
And she has no idea…that one day soon, men who could actually do that will find her.
For now...she’s just Ysara Hartwell. Eighteen for six months.Thriving online.
Loved by humans.
Hunted by no one.