Saving the Last Lycan King

Sophie Sweat was slowly trailing down my temples as I stared down at the papers and photographs in front of me. A few containers with different objects collected from the site were stacked in the corner of the table, away from my tired eyes, as I needed a break trying to figure out if they held any importance to the history of lycans. The photos of the latest findings had already been described and logged and were now gathered in a portfolio marked with today’s date, as I waited for Nathan to come pick them up to drop them off to the directing archeologist. I pushed myself away from the table, enjoying how the movement created a small gust of wind on my neck, momentarily cooling me down before the heat enveloped me again. The sun was merciless again today, creating a much too warm environment inside of the tent I was working in and the fan working at full speed in the corner, didn’t help at all. This wasn’t my usual place of work, actually. Normally, I work at the Donahue Museum in London as a historian and for the last three years I’ve been studying the history of the great lycans who once roamed the earth. I’m only here working as a consultant because Nathan offered me the opportunity to be a part of his team. I knew that this was only going to happen once in my life and if I helped to find something important, it could be a huge step in my career. It was a no-brainer, really, so once I had wrapped up my lecture schedule at the museum and the paperwork was cleared, I was off to south-east France. During the past two weeks I have found some clues and hidden messages in some of the objects they have unearthed. Every time I found something of importance, I had informed Nathan and, from the pleased look on his face every time I brought him any news, it was hard not to share my discoveries with him. He was my employer after all and I really enjoyed working on something as exciting as this. But then one night, as everyone was gathered around the fire pit, I overheard Nathan speaking on the phone. Okay, maybe I was eaves-dropping, but that’s not the important thing right now… So, as he spoke on the phone, I overheard how he was only here to find the lycan and use him and his remains to earn a fortune. Apparently, he had been searching for this very tomb for a very, very long time and, honestly, the conversation shook me to the very core, because money and fame were not the reason I was doing this. I was here to help preserve and describe a lost piece of history. I’m aware that I only heard his part of the conversation, but after hearing it, his behavior suddenly made complete sense to me. The way he instructed me to ignore everything that didn’t have any importance to the location of the tomb. How I was not allowed to share any of my work with others working here. How the pictures and folders were classified. At first, I didn’t think much of it, because he was my boss, but now it just seemed odd to hire a historian and ask her to ignore almost everything they dug out of the ground, unless he deemed it important. And now, I’ve told him too much. I knew he would soon figure out where the tomb was located from the clues I'd shared with him and I prayed to god that I would find it first. I had to describe the tomb and photograph it before they were going to ruin it with their ignorant approach to a rare piece of history. Tonight was my only chance, because, ironic as it sounds, tomorrow was my last day here before I went back to London and from what I had gathered in the clues I had found, it almost sounded like the lycan king was still alive, waiting to be saved before the next blood moon occurred, which was going to be the day after tomorrow…