Teimhnin- Alphess of Venantium

- Name: Teimhnin Adara Kane Valentine


- Gender: Female


- Age: Teimhnin was a part of the early Viking Era. It is unbeknownst to her exactly how old she is, but she estimates it to be over two-thousand years.


- Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

- Requested Pack: Venantium


- Requested Rank: Alphess


- Appearance: A mass of crimson locks sprout themselves from the very roots of her hair, the quality of a lovely auburn instead of a carrot’s orange. They wave and weave around her face in elegant tendrils to stop just past her shoulders. The planes of her face carve themselves into rounded angles and soft features, placing happy creases in the corners of her mouth when she is to smile. Her skin is fair, very fair in the true ways of the heritage she claims in her blood. Eyes of a silver hue place themselves within their sockets. They carry a distinct clarity, almost as if they were a mirror, though warm and tender as the heart that beats in her chest. She looks upon her members with pride, giving them a positive image when they happen to see themselves in the silvery mirrors. The Alphess carries her self with a pride and passion in her pack while her confidence in herself and her beliefs could easily startle a crowd into silence. Her body is elegant and femininely curved, tapered down to a slim waist that flares out along her hips and chest. The light within herself shows through in the warmth and love she places upon everything she sees. Only twice in her life has she ever been flat or cold with the eerie emotions of utter fury. How easily her looks can change. A mothering look can be placed with one of horror or hatred, ominous or reflecting nothing at all. Within her mind she is strong and compassionate with a flare for the dramatic that is often comical. All life she met had been taken within her until a startling man swept her away to better places, igniting a fire within her heart that had otherwise left her dead before. Her voice is quiet yet rough with its husky tenor but holds a tone that could crack like a whip. The love for life sets her aglow with vitality though she would have been quite beyond years she could call her own. She had been a broken hut that had been left alone until a candle was placed within. That candle burned too brightly and burned her until the remains were nearly gutted and hollow only for her to learn and grow again. During that period her ravaged and broken remains became vines, strong and weaving into something simply impossible to break. She placed a cast around what was broken and signed it herself with words of encouragement and struck yet another match. Within herself she let her life grow and brought it upon those she could call her own.

Of course, no beauty can go without a beast. Many will place that fact in fairy tales being a man to love and bring out his true humanity. Looking past the stories and lies they find that the true beast is within themselves, though among her kind it is literal. Very much like her complexion, her wolf is paled with fur as pure as snow to where is it a blinding quality. Among the mass of herself her eyes remain the same though a bit colder, adding ice to her personal winter. Though her frame is not the largest she soaks in the space around her to appear larger. The beast holds itself with pride. Depending purely on emotion her aura could be like warm honey dripping upon one’s body or acid that eats away the flesh until what is true is to be bared. Her beast carries nothing to do with nonsense and throws the strength she could otherwise not show in their rule. Her spot of a tender heart is shown to her human casing, comfort in and strong in a friendship that has bonded over numerous years. In every aspect she is a true, real wolf that simply allows her flesh-covered cage think and speak for her. A lazing queen on a throne of riches that would not allow her to have a care in the world.

- Face Claim: Emma Stone

- Human Photo:

Spoiler:

- Wolf Photo:

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- Joining Keys: -Joining keys have been removed for the fair purpose of future joining members ~The Staff Admin


- How Did You Find Us?: I am the Co-Owner of this site.


- Her History:

Rain turned the stone near the hut nearly black, soaking the exterior though it was not affected on the inside. Accompanying the patter of the rain were thick, heavy accents that today would barely be recognized as English. Men and women swarmed the small cabin, flicking the ears of children who dared to peek through doors and windows. They had a right to be curious. At least, wondering why the wereling female was screaming in pain was reason enough. Her stomach was swollen as if she had devoured a balloon, life within her womb struggling to become free. There was only one struggling to catch their first breath, the other it was far too late for. Another cry of agony, another wince from the children in their scared silence. The very start to the journey came with an eerie silence, the babe utterly pale and still. The mother did not want to look for she knew her first babe was gone, that the lineage might not continue of her cursed family was both a relief and a worry. Again the screams began and again her back was bowed in the birthing pains of bringing life to the world. This one was successful, following the wails of the young girl as the cold stabbed her skin and breath struck her lungs. The newfound mother looked over to see her mate, their hands clasping together as the babe was cleaned and given her first glance at the faces she would never forget. ‘Teimhnin!’ was cried among the pack as they cheered for the new life brought to them, tipping their heads back to howl at the sky. The loss of one was just bearable against the life of another, and the pack believed in the fates as much as they believed the creatures they hunted. Both mother and child found sleep quickly, the father refusing to rest with a proud protection. He stalked as a beast with his fangs peeled back from his blackened lips until his mate awoke once again. People no longer gathered, stricken with fear of the mate the male dared to claim his own. Without fear he went in alone, watching his child feed from her mother until it was time. Only then would he nod to his mate and take their child, looking down into eyes so pale he would have thought her to be blind. Instead she watched his every movement, giving her father a smile that brought both parents to laughter and to croon her name for the rest of that day.

Like her mother, Teimhnin grew to have crimson hair and fair complexion. Her limbs were longer, gangly from the small girl’s body though her eyes were as large as a doe’s. Often she would follow her father to pack meetings, trailing on the ragged ends of his pant legs. They welcomed her with open arms and adoring faces, letting her play with their children for as long as she wished. As much as she asked, her mother never came along as well. Every question as to why was held off to a later date of where the number of her age was higher, much higher. Instead she stopped questioning but adored her mother all the same. She could not help to think her mother was beautiful, willowy and ageless like the women of the tales the elders told. She could imagine her mother dancing, covered in the marks of her pack as the fire roared along with the drumbeat in her ears. Teimhnin hoped she would  look like her mother just as much as she hoped to be like her father. A powerful man and dangerous all the same, he taught Teimhnin the secrets he knew of the world and all he knew of them. From an early age he had began he training, whirling fallen branches around as if they were the swords she had seen lined across her parents’ bedroom wall. Her mother would watch happily from afar and praise her daughter when she’d done something right. Though it was that odd not once did her mother eat with them, instead she could be found making new furred clothing for her daughter or heating dough over the burning coals. Again it was not open to conversation and Teimhnin didn’t pry, fathering to choose that her mother was a magical being from the light. It was one of these nights, or rather early mornings, that Teimhnin found herself to be woken by her mother and carried away from the soft straw of her bed. The young wereling did not register what was actually happening until her back had hid a hard surface and sparks of gold were sailing about her. All her questioning mumbles were hushed as her mother explained the raid, covering her daughter in the straw of the barn near their horses. Not once had she been so thankful they lived so far from town once she was told of burning and her father going to help. Her mother, satisfied that the child was covered, darted from the barn only to return in stiff silence. Before doing so, she curled a a soft rectangular object into the child’s hand then was gone without another word. Teimhnin did not understand much other than her mother’s, now a beast like her father, form had changed and was on the plan to attack. In blind rage and need to protect her child, Teimhnin watched as her mother charged at men in dark clothing and bright swords. It only took one to pluck the girl’s guardian from the air, position his sworn, and slit her mother’s throat.

Teimhnin did not cry out; she did not dare for she knew she would meet the same fate. The stench of blood was all around, the horses were unsettled and pulling at their tethers as blood began to soak around the ground beneath them. It crept silently onwards until covered the girl in a dark red, turning her feet black in the morning light. Only then, after the men had left, did she cry. She knew the body on the ground was the thing she adored most, and at the young age of ten she was still old enough to know she witnessed it being taken from her. Still she did not move, not until the sun was high in the sky and the familiar agonized cry of a man struck her ears. The blood had dried, a brown mess covering her body as she scrambled from the straw only to trip over her mother’s lifeless corpse. Their she stopped and stared, stricken by the remnants of it all once again until it pounded in her own head. The man’s face would forever be committed to her memory, the way he smiled as he took something so important from a child so young. In rage she screamed and tore away from the barn, colliding with something solid yet soft. She beat at it frantically in both fear and fury of what wasn’t and wouldn’t ever be fair. It did not register to her ears until she calmed that her father’s voice was attempting to soothe her. He stroked her hair to calm her, lifting his daughter into his arms and carrying her into their house before he did what he must. Hours later no one would have thought there had ever been a death other than the silence. It hung over both child and man as they sat and grieved. A man losing his love, a daughter losing her mother. Once sunset had struck they moved outside, a large amount of bloody straw covering the mass of a body within their fire pit. Bringing a branch from the fire, it was tossed into the mass as it went up with crackles. A slow roar started yet neither looked away until everything was burned away but the bones. The same was done to their home and they walked down the path without looking back, hands clasped together like a lifeline.

Teimhnin spent her years traveling between England and Ireland with her father, training with the choice weapon of daggers as she did so. The diversity was healthy for her as she grew to be a young woman. Males noticed the young woman, with her tall structure and her curved body. She was sure to notice them back. Her first shift had brought rapid changes, the first being the bringing of her closest friend. Teimhnin didn’t mind sharing a body with a creature so much like herself and found herself conversing with the creature more than actual strangers. The agelessness she claimed was, as her father said, almost painfully like her mother. In Ireland she danced around the fires as she dreamed, what she thought of her mother doing becoming her reality as her body writhed to the music and black markings covered her skin. Each night she went away with a new male, enjoying herself as long as she could and her father deemed her ready. It was time and it was a sad departure, but one she felt necessary for what she needed to do. It was not hard to locate the pack that raided her own so long ago, nor was it hard to find the murderer. He had been saved for her pickings, and she was an excellent scavenger dressed in rags. She slid her knife over her skin until she was sure the wounds were sufficient, hiding her bag in the hole of a tree as she ambushed a pack’s border patrols. To them she would appear as a wereling woman, bleeding and crying in fear and shock. They were quick to take her in and get her to a healer, the alpha deciding he could care less about a single vulnerable woman. Though, as she planned, her target took interest. As she healed he made visits, and though it sickened her Teimhnin feigned an attraction to mirror the one she knew he was feeling. Ever so slowly the two drew closer while she allowed him to believe the cliche love story. Though she felt as if she should crawl out of her skin, she let him bed her as much as he could possibly want. Every second of Teimhnin’s life was full of anticipation ticking away on a clock. Finally their mating ceremony came and the bride had a quick stop to make. A trusted member of the pack, she was allowed to leave of her own volition. She had multiple times to check on her bag, but this time it would be coming with her and stowed away in waiting of a pair coming together with their bodies. Their bed was large, a gift for the new couple as they fell back onto it. His movements were of desire and lust, hers were of nervous anticipation as she reached under their bed and drew the dagger behind her back. At once she flipped them and let herself sit upon his waist, pushing his hands from her dressing gown as if she were a playful lover. He did not see the dagger until its point was against his throat, and Teimhnin wondered if he did not recognize her from the appearance of the woman he’d killed so long ago. She believed he did, that all the pieces would fit together as her dagger slipped across his throat and he bled out to his death on the bed.

After that, Teimhnin ran. She gathered her things as to not be tracked and left without another word. The vengeful smirk never left her face as she traveled back to her father, bedding down with a few or more lovers on the way. In the years of her absence it seemed connections of her old pack were made again and her father lived among them. Though they wished to welcome her back as well, Teimhnin had set her sights for travel. Her father was proud, a woman like her mother in more ways than one. Travel she did, to every country imaginable until America was set in her sights. This is where, of course, she found herself in The Lost Ones.

|After finding Lost|

Teimhnin found herself as the beta of the Braveheart pack, belonging to none other than Alpha Gabriel. They were close friends and could have possibly been lovers, but that was a flame that burned all too bright. There she found Alex, the man she would claim and swear was her brother until the very end. Finally she met her love going by the name of Jace Valentine. Like a tidal wave her swept her off her feet and they were mated after nearly a year of their love shining true. Teimhnin found her happy niche, though it could not last forever. Eternal Darkness, now known as Caedesque, had a member that was much to unfortunate as to lead her away and bring her to her vey weakest state. All in one night Teimhnin was raped, bitten and nearly drained of blood by a vampire, and sliced with a knife to the point she barely looked recognizable. Jace and Alex were her rescuers, but by then it was nearly too late. Teimhnin recovered with five months in a coma and to the help of her trusted Beta, Natasha. Jace was the first face she saw when she awoke and she found herself in love with him all over again as they created the pack of Venantium and started a family of their own. Teimhnin gave birth to twins not much longer after that, both healthy and alive though the newfound Alphess knew something was wrong. After years of not daring to look, she picked up the book her mother had given her and read it for only the third time in her life. Like the twin that had died in Teimhnin’s birth, one of her own children carried the family lineage of cannibalism. Everything had clicked together like a puzzle piece the third time she had read it, and now it was a waiting game to see which one of her children claimed the ‘curse’. It turned out to be her daughter, Rayne, as she had suspected. Though her son, Kaehl, wasn’t affected by genetics there was a chance he could be as well. The alphesss simply hoped for the best and loved her children all the same, having showed Rayne how to overcome her appetite. It was in her children’s hands now, their lives before them as all she could do was relax with her mate and let their lives carry on. Now Teimhnin resides with her family in Ireland, the lands of her pack before her even as they were savagely raided again and killed off. The pack of Venantium was to take their place, and she could only hope she made her parents proud.

- Example Writing:


~My writing style has changed since this has been written, but this was my best at that time.~

Upon waking up, Teimhnin had no clue where she was or when she had been brought there. Her mind had been a bliss of dark, except for the labyrinth. She had known she was unconscious and that everything else was gone, but the place in her mind had felt so real. The hedges that formed the impossible maze were full of thick, sturdy branches and spring green pine needles. The vibrancy and unnatural colors around her should’ve given her a hint or even a clue. Instead there was nothing but the far off sounds of battle and destruction caused by only heaven knows what. The sounds were behind her, forcing her into the labyrinth of hedges whether she liked it or not. She feared what was behind her when she should’ve feared what was to come. Teimhnin has marched into the depths of her own mind and gotten lost within her own thoughts. It was a terrifying thing to think when she looked back at it now, but there was no turning back. The first thing she noticed was that her wolf was nowhere to be found. The woman would look and look, calling to the one thing that made her whole even though it proved to be unsuccessful. The deep stages of mourning began in denial. Knowing how much she loved her wolf, it was hard to grasp that she was gone. Teimhnin slowly began to gather the understanding that she was either dead or dying in this place, but it all seemed like far off memories. Realizing her wolf was gone from her set her off into the labyrinth. Ever corner she turned, she almost swore she could see that tall, white figure flickering and leading her. Sometimes she could hear the voice that used to be inside of her speaking, telling her that this was wrong and she needed to stop running and turn around. Every time she almost listened, the noises of battle would become a roar in her ears. Sometimes, the echoing voice of her father would tell her to run, to get revenge on the person that was causing such noise. The hard thuds of paws would come behind her and set off a whole new reign of terror before she moved father into the lightening paths of her mind. One peculiar thing was how light the colored seemed to be fading. What was once spring green was now an almost blinding neon. The ground beneath her was fading into one of the lightest pastel yellows she had ever seen. Walking ever farther, Teimhnin realized that in the end there would be a blinding light. The woman didn’t care though, and she kept running from the noises behind her. At least five more steps and she realized that she was stepping on nothing, that there was nothing. Somehow, she could feel that the very end was near and that she would soon be stepping off of an invisible ledge. That was when she saw her wolf, barely visible and flickering in an out of view. She couldn’t tell how relieved she was, but it seemed like her wolf was in pain. “That.... is your death, Teimhnin. You step from this ledge, and you lose it all. The life you were going to have, what we were capable of doing will all be ruined. I will die and never see you again, let alone all of the others. Are you ready to take that step?” As her wolf finished speaking, the flickering began even more intensely. Teimhnin had no voice, had nothing she wanted to say. She knew she wasn’t ready, knew that she didn’t want to go this way yet. As she turned, her wolf gave her a knowing look and moved towards the woman. Teimhnin reach out her hand and placed it on her wolf as a crack of blinding light struck around them. With her eyes closed, she felt a great impact before everything was black.

Silver eyes fluttered open for the first time in six months, and she felt as is she had been hit by a bus. It was silent at first and she had thought she had gone deaf. For a moment the memories remained with her, or at least all she could remember. Garrett. Her body tied to the tracks after he had done unmentionable things to her. Teimhnin looked around the room, fearing that he was here with her somewhere.The room seemed strangely comfortable, as if all the stops were pulled out to make sure she was cozy. There was a large window to her left that she could only see water of the ocean. Waves tossed and rolled, moving and crashing into the rocks of the shore. Why Teimhnin was on a beach and not inside of a dungeon, she didn’t know. Another thing she realized was that she felt very, very weak. Her eyes moved over to glance at her body from the corner of her eye. After Garrett had done what he had done, she feared that she had just awoken pregnant. It would explain why she was so exhausted and weak, but not the IV that was injecting fluids into her arm. Her eyes widened and she looked up at what whoever had captured her was giving her. It seemed like any normal bag of fluids, but it was the trey next to the stand that gave her cause for concern. Either just recently or a matter of hours ago, someone had been giving her their blood. Why, she had no clue. She felt weak, but she was not inured. Teimhnin was banishing the memories from her mind with each new glance about the room. Being able to walk was an unlikely possibility with how weak only her arms were. She didn’t think she would be able to move the left one, but the right was weighed down by something. Before she dared to look, she took one more listen and found nothing but peace. Taking a dry gulp of air, she  slowly turned her head to see what was weighing her arm down. The minute she saw the hand, it seemed like her arm could feel. Suddenly her whole body was warm and it seemed like only that hand was causing it. It was extremely warm on her cold skin, and suddenly she remember that same hand on her before. Except that hand had been a tan, healthy bronze. The one she was looking at now seemed to be the washed out version of the hand she had seen in her memories. For some reason, the hand meant so many important things to her. Teimhnin realized that the hand was connected to a person, and one look at his face set the memories of him free. The Griffen and her position in Braveheart. Then there was him, the handsome face of a man before her. Even though his eyes were closed in sleep, she knew he had a pair of the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen. That his hair was so soft and silky when she ran her hands through it. He was the one she had met after work and they had spent so much time together. It had all started with that first night, and she could see their bodies in a passionate embrace as they pleasured each other. It was the very first night that set off all her feelings for this man. Then there was the memory yet again at Griffen with him. He had angered her by talking about someone important to her, but it had ended in one of the most happiest evenings of her life. Teimhnin looked to her hand, hoping to find the beautiful ring there. When she saw it gone, she began to worry before turning her attention back to the man. He was the one that had given it to her, speaking words of love and marriage. It took her a few moments to realize that she had accepted with all  she had in her. He was the one who had come for her, saved her from Garrett and whoever else had been there to hurt her. This was Jace, and he was going to be her mate.

Her hand was clasped in Jace’s, but she had enough strength to move it from his grasp. Slowly and gently, her hand lifted to brush her fingers along the sides of his face. Like a feathered touch her hand felt along his cheek bones and jaw. Teimhnin’s hand moves to his forehead, gently feeling the ends of his soft hair. Why he looked so tired, she didn’t know. Didn’t he feed himself? Had he been taking care of himself? Suddenly, she wanted to know how long she had been in that labyrinth of her mind and how he had fared without her. As her fingers felt the skin of his face, she blinked and watched him sleep. Teimhnin was sure he had brought her here, but where was Alex? Yes, that was his name. She remembered him as being one of the ones who had helped save her. Then there was the vampire, she felt his bites tearing into her skin and lighting her blood on fire. All of the sudden, there was him. The Alpha werewolf who she had snuck into his pack and tricked everyone. He murdered her family in return though she banished that thought from her mind. Teimhnin’s eyes and mind turned back to Jace and her concern for him. Pressing her fingers beneath his chin, she tried to lift his face in an attempt to wake him up. Opening her mouth, all she could speak was air. A glass of water rested on her nightstand and she lifted it gently to drink from it. She felt refreshed and though her lips were still chapped, she knew she could speak. Opening her mouth once more, she spoke. “Jace....”