1 Full Moon

Cassidy's POV

The wind blew past my ears as I urged my stallion to gallop faster. I like riding, especially through these woods. I know that father says it's dangerous and full of bandits and he's probably right, but I've lived here my whole life and never been attacked.

Besides, I know how to fight. I am the son of the gentry. I know to handle a sword.

While I am not old, I am still on the cusp of adulthood. Father should no longer worry so much about me going out, honestly. As it is, it's late enough that my father would probably be worried.

I make my way through the forest back to the manor as quickly as I can.

It is the night of the full moon and I shouldn't be out here. Since young, my father has always told me stories of werewolves that prowled the very woods that I enjoyed exploring. I have yet to chance upon any. Not even normal wolves.

He's told me countless bedtime stories and fairytales of men who could transform into beautiful monstrous beings under the pale light of the moon.

There are no werewolves anymore though, because of a disease that wiped out most of the werewolves in this kingdom. Any remaining werewolves have either succumbed to death or moved away.

As I move through the forest on the path of dried leaves, a light wind blows through, ruffling the leaves in the trees. Before, I wasn't listening to anything but my own panting. Now that I was listening properly, the forest was unnaturally silent. I slowed my steed in caution.

My heartbeat picked up. As I expected, a soft whistle blew past my ear and an arrow lodged itself into the branch ahead of me, startling me and my horse. A little to the left and that arrow would have pierced my eye.

My horse reared back, catching me by surprise. I desperately tried to hold on as I was thrown off. I broke my fall with my wrist, breaking that instead. Pain caused a spike of adrenaline in my veins as I scrambled up, grabbing my dagger with my good hand; which was also not my master hand, so not actually very good. I spun around to face my attackers, red riding cloak swishing behind me.

Shit.

I brought my arms up, wielding the dagger as threateningly as possible.

"We got ourselves a good'un here! One of those lord's son from the looks of it eh!"

I bristled in anger.

"Come on then, ye know what we are, give us anythin' valuables an' maybe we won't hurt ye," the leader laughed.

"Leave this forest and I won't press charges," I replied warningly. The big brute standing a little in front of the leader pointed his crossbow at me.

“Now, Brian, don't shoot'im. You almost got his eye. Or he ain't pretty anymore!" He crowed in delight. "Well, boy, show us what ye got!"

I counted to three in my head and lunged at the leader. He stepped aside easily, cackling in amused delight. I swung my dagger at him but he caught my wrist and kneed my stomach. I swore loudly.

Whatever training I'd had in school was alarmingly useless.

"What a dirty mouth! That all ye got, pretty boy?" He laughed as he taunted me.

I glared at him, gritting my teeth through the waves of pain from my bruised stomach and my broken wrist.

"Fuck. You." I panted.

His expression darkened. He grabbed my hair and pulled, bending down to speak in my ear. "Better watch your mouth, boy. Or I'll make ye regret it."

I spat at his feet. He growled and punched my stomach again. I crumpled to the ground.

I didn't know how long they kept kicking me. I just knew that everything was starting to feel numb. As best as I could, I curled up trying to protect myself. But even the ringing in my ears couldn't block the howl that filled the cold night, loud and clear.

Only, there weren't supposed to be any wolves left.

It can't be, and yet...

I find myself looking at a huge black wolf behind my captors, standing among the trees. The wolf bares its teeth and growls lowly.

The leader freezes, his momentary hesitation is enough for me to attempt an escape. I am far weaker than I realise, my knees buckling at the radiating pain. The ugly man turns his attention back to me and in my panic, I swing punch in his direction.

I manage to hit his jaw but his men grab me from behind again. This is far more difficult than I expected. My face burns with the humiliation of my ineptitude.

Clearly, my father's concerns are more well-founded than I thought.

"Leave him to the wolf," the brute yells at his men and they drop me. "Go!"

The black wolf sprints towards me. And my heart starts pounding faster in fear but it leaps over my fallen body and at the men.

They scatter in panic. The wolf snarls and pounces on the closest one of the bandits, ripping his throat out. I watch the gruesome scene with wide eyes, too stunned to realise that now would be the perfect time to get the hell out of here. The wolf doesn't chase the others and instead, turns towards me.

Double Shit.

It's too late, by the time I realise what a golden opportunity I had, it had seen me. And it was looking straight at me with— with really beautiful green eyes.

I swear mentally. Now isn't the time to admire this majestic black wolf with the eyes made of the most precious emeralds and who probably is about to eat me.

Get up!

I stand shakily. The adrenaline that coursed through me just now seems to be waning.

"Please don't eat me, Sir wolf. I don't taste good. I swear. You are really pretty."

The wolf huffs and smirks at me. Or at least it looks like it's smirking. Can wolves have facial expression?

"Stay there, don't come closer! I mean it!" I step back as fast as I can without aggravating the wolf into jumping on me. I backed away until I hit a tree. I yelp in surprise and it huffs again.

Oh my god. I am pathetic. I have zero dignity?

The majestic beast prowls its way toward me, that stupid smirk on its face all the while. "Shit..." I breathe and close my eyes.

Please let this be quick and painless...

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Nothing's happening?!

Slowly, I peek out through my eyelashes and find myself looking straight into the wolf's own emerald eyes.

My scream burbles in my chest and gets caught in my throat, birthing a highly embarrassing gurgle of fear. I am too consumed in terror to care for my current pathetic state. And if I survive this, unlikely as it may seem, I may simply wither away in humiliation.

Oh my god, oh my god—is it sniffing me?

Nothing was happening and I was having a really spastic conversation with myself.

I opened my eyes again. The wolf was sniffing at me. Its wet nose travelled from my neck to my armpits and then— "Hey! Don't sniff the family jewels! That's impolite!"

The wolf huffs at me again and rolls its eyes. Whatever. It nudges my broken wrist with its snout. And ow, that hurt.

Without all the adrenaline that had been coursing in my blood, I was beginning to feel the throbbing in my injured wrist and ribs.

My ribs were definitely bruised and possibly fractured from when the bandits kept using me as their personal punching bag. I needed to get home and have a physician look me over, but I highly doubted my own ability to get home right now.

I looked around me, everything was basking in the glow of the full moon. It was past twilight already and I hadn't even realised how late it was. Father must be beside himself with worry.

The sound of whining brought me back to the present.

"You aren't going to eat me, are you? I mean you would have eaten me already if you wanted to," I said to the wolf. "I don't suppose you could help me get home?"

The wolf stared at me before turning around and walking away. Then it turned back again and looked at me as if to say "Aren't you coming?"

There was some pause, but I decided I could follow it. It was better to find somewhere safe to sleep and then make my way back to the manor in the morning.

I limped after the wolf, grimacing in pain. It led me off the path and through the woods to a quaint little cottage among the trees. I looked at it. It tilted its head towards the cottage and looked back at me.

Hesitantly, I walked up to the front door and knocked. No response. I knocked louder. Again, nothing. I looked at the wolf. It looked back at me with an amused expression.

"This house is empty, isn't it?" I asked. The wolf huffed and nodded. "Okay."

Entering the cottage was a whole experience. Every step up the porch was one of agony as I strained my abused muscles.

The cottage looked lived in which was strange since there was no one there. Maybe the owner went out for a bit, but who would go out on a full moon. Other than me and the assholes looking for easy prey.

I turned; the wolf was there. I wheezed as I climbed the stairs and entered the nearest door panting shallowly. It was a bedroom. The bed was queen-sized and the sheets were a dark red. I turned; the wolf was standing just outside the room door.

"Are you coming?" I asked breathlessly. The wolf just strolled into the room like he owned the place.

The attack left me wincing even when I untied the laces of my riding hood, which was surprisingly still in nearly impeccable condition aside from a few grass stains. Those were easily removable.

I draped it on the back of the chair beside the bed. The clothes rack had proven too difficult to manage.

The wolf turned and led me to a bathroom where I ran my swollen wrist under the cold water until it was numb and then wrapped it up as tightly as possible in some strips of cloth I found since I didn't have any sticks to make a splinter.

After that, I went back to the bedroom and crawled under the sheets. The mattress was comparable to a cloud after the night's ordeal.

The wolf jumped up and struggled to get under the sheets with me. I chuckled lowly and lifted the sheets. It snuggled in right beside me and I threw my good arm over it and stroked its fur a little.

Such soft fur. The wolf huffed and nuzzled my hair.

Did I say that out loud? I closed my eyes, too tired to think anymore…