In a 17th-century European village, a young maiden named Lyra — dressed in an antique wedding gown yellowed by time — was chained by her own father to the edge of a cliff and thrown into the abyss. She was the centennial bride, a sacrifice to appease the wrath of the Wolf God.
She did not die from the fall. Instead, she awoke in a mountain stone hall veiled in glowing moss. But it was no god that came to greet her — only a pack of bloodthirsty werewolves.
Her “groom” was the Wolf King — beautiful yet glacial. The witnesses were Abyssal Titans lurking in the shadows.
There was no salvation here. Only endless breeding and devouring.
When the ancient enemy — the Abyssal Titans — tore the palace apart, Lyra had to carve a bloody path through fangs and claws. She was no sacrifice. She was a survivor.
Beneath the abyss, the real monsters dwell on the shore.
