Now, when starting to write THE DARK WORLD: BOOK 1, I was ready to merely name the Vampires' antagonists 'Werewolves,' as, in my sixteen-year-old brain that's who the Vampires always fought in various books and movies I'd consumed before then. No?
Yet it was my mom and older sister that stopped me when I went to write about werewolves and told me, "No, they're Lycans." It made sense to me, then. We all heard of Lycanthropy right? And in this massive world I was building at the time, it made sense to call them as such: Man turn into wolf. Man not fully wolf, yet not fully man.
My Lycans walk on hind legs as beasts, sometimes reverting to all-fours in the beastly form as well, but when this form, they are definitely heightened, very vicious, and react instinctively. The only two Lycans in my series that have (yet) to portray this inherently monstrous thinking and form (even while in Lycan form) are the Lycan King Lore and his son, Thomas Montague.
To explain any more about them would be to spoil great parts of the story, so I'll leave you with this excerpt of the first chapter in THE DARK WORLD:
His gaze was pulled from the woman as the Lycan staggered to its rear legs, its head jerking erratically, and he had the strangest feeling the Creature knew he was there.
It was not long before it sniffed the air deeply, and growled low, turning its head toward him, a moment of remarkable fear marring the bloodlust under that bemused gaze.
“A Vampire?” the Lycan growled.
The voice snaked into his mind, almost mesmerizing in its horridness. He felt as though he were being pinned to the ground with that voice, but his blood boiled, his desire to kill higher than it had ever been—
He was flying through the air before he knew it, mind gone. His only focus was the large, snarling beast—
And he was brought back down to Earth with the intense pain of terribly sharp teeth, the rip and crack that sounded in his ear quite loud as he felt a sudden release. He felt the ruinous tear, and he flew backwards through the air, the vision of blood, hair and clothes flying before his face amidst the maddening pain—
His senses turned black when he came to an abrupt halt, the smack of his back against a rough, hard surface issuing a scream from his lips. He felt his body crumple to the ground, slack against a tree. A pain still pulsed at his right shoulder. He could not look to see the damage done, but knew it vast. His side, as well as the ground, was slick with wetness, and he could smell the blood in the air. His blood.
A fresh burst of wind blew past his face next. The thick scent
of Lycan reached his nose, causing him to cough, and against all
thought—against all reason indeed—he opened his eyes against the
The dancing figure of the large, hairy beast stalking toward him
seemed impossible, if only for a brief moment. Yet a raucous laugh
filled the air after he thought this, and he was returned to sobering
reality with the sound.
Although through the eyes of a Vampire facing a Lycan, I believe we can glimpse the steady bloodlust of the Lycan, the way it subdued the Vampire with its teeth, cracked its spine against a tree, rendered it immobile, unable to move, to defend itself from a most certain end. This particular Lycan is almost strategic in its movements, though I must tell you, not all are. A special case, as it were.
Why is he special?
You'll just have to read BOOK 1 to find out! :)
Check back here for the next installment of Blood Talk: Enchanters!
With blood and love,