Werewolf



 

Cathy

“Aldrich?!” I yelled out as he relinquished, a mass of muscle collapsing heavily to the ground. 

I watched in horror as the noble prince, war general, and experienced soldier fell unconscious on my floor. He had spent most of his adult life in war, probably combatting the most notorious generals and warriors, but passed out in my living room onto my daisies. 

“Shit,” I muttered as I rushed over to him. He inflicted wounds during the battle, but they were shallow—he was able to kill all three of them within a minute. But something weakened him, something worse than shallow gashes. Something I was not aware of. 

As my brain reeled over what it could be, I realized I was afraid of him dying.

Theo skittered over and helped me move Aldrich, who morphed into his human form. We managed to drag him then lift him onto my bed, not caring that his blood stained my sheets. I flinched



 

Aldrich

 

“It was Cathy who healed my wounds?”

When I woke up in my chambers, I was more surprised to learn this than the act of waking up somewhere completely different than I fainted. Alan, a staple of my entourage, nodded. He was my second hand man, and although as general I did not have time for friends, I would call him the closest thing I had to one. 

“Yes, we found you outside her cottage. I have to say, her dressing skill is very professional,” he drawled, an amused look on his face. I could see the question in his eyes about why I was there. I didn’t care to entertain that yet. 

“Alan, go find out more information about the assassins. I also want to know what my wife has been doing for the past four years.” I waved him away. 

He saluted me before following my orders, exiting the room with a chuckle.

I was left contemplating how Cathy managed it. Military medical staf



                I told myself it was mere curiosity that led me back to the cottage that night. 

                Weaving through the moonlit forest, unseen and hidden within a mask, I nearly convinced myself of this. I was only going because of my hungry curiosity and natural hatred for the unknown. Us animals are curious creatures, and we do not tolerate questioning very well. 

                “A prince must know everything about his people,” I added out loud as I side-stepped a pine tree and onto the familiar dirt path, nodding in agreeance with myself. “Yes, that is it.” 

                However, the small, rational part of me knew that it was because of how my heart felt staring at the boy, and the hatred on Cathy’s beautiful face. 

                I easily found the cottage next to the large willow tree. It was warmly glowing through the darkness. I didn’t have much of a plan, but my stealthy nature did not need one. I was a famous war general whose footsteps were more silent than the fluttering wings of a fly. 

                I stared at the cottage for a moment before approaching the side wall, ducking under the window. I could not peer inside this one; it was too visible. I saw there was a skylight window on the roof, and instantly climbed up. 

                Silently adjusting myself over the gutters and onto the roof, I did not allow myself to think about how invasive this was this. If the boy saw me, he would be petrified. But it technically was my cottage—I comforted myself with this. It was still the palace’s property. They were my guests. 

                That I locked up for four years. 

                Silencing my thoughts, I glimpsed down through the window and found the dining room below. Large flowers surrounded the table, sunflowers tall from the aid of skylight. 

                There was a meal being brought to the table. Cathy, her beauty still as surprising as before. My eyes lingered on her for a moment before landing on the little boy waiting patiently for dinner, a grin on his face. 

                “More food?” he exclaimed. 

                She smiled at him as she brought over more slabs of meat and vegetables. “Of course, my boy. The more you eat, the more quickly you grow.” 

                He then immediately dug into the food the second she placed it on the table, forking a piece of cabbage. “I will become strong to protect you, mommy.” 

                I watched her quietly dab at her eyes, and realized she was wiping a tear. I then realized the boy was probably chubby because he was eager to grow up to protect his mother, eating too much thinking it will make him strong faster. 

                As I mused this, the smell of the food wafted up to the open skylight, and my stomach growled in response. Meat medallions were my favorite, and she seasoned them expertly. Just from the smell alone, I could tell she was better than the royal chef. The luxurious food I ate at the banquet suddenly did not seem that good anymore. 

                She looked beautiful even when she cried, her cheeks blushing a delicate rose pink. It illuminated the green of her eyes. I came here to investigate Theo, but my eyes preferred her, like they belonged to her. 

                I shook my head in disgust, tearing myself from my reverie. This woman was not beautiful—she was a wench who drugged me. She took advantage of me. Anyone who takes advantage of someone for sex is not to be admired. 

                I would not tolerate attraction toward her just because she was beautiful, and that I felt guilty for locking them up. She was still a criminal. Just because she was no longer ugly on the outside did not mean she was no longer on the inside. My love for Emily had faded into time, but that did not mean Cathy would be her replacement. Even if the child was mine, he was conceived in deceit. 

                Just as I threw my leg out over the roof to climb down, I saw her tense up. Shit. Did she see me? 

                But when I peered down into the cottage, she was not looking up—she was sniffing. She smelled me. 

                Her entire body was tensed as if bracing for a slap, then a smile crossed her face. It was too sweet and tight to be authentic. 

“Theo, honey, it’s time for you to go to bed,” she announced as she bent her knees to kiss his forehead. Something in her tone avoided him from protesting. He gave her a kiss in return on the cheek and wordlessly left the table.

When the boy retreated into his bedroom, she grabbed a dagger from the kitchen drawer.

Something other than food and the flowers wafted in the air. I detected the danger within my bones, and immediately switched to my wolf form out of habit. It was an unfamiliar scent, thick with bad intentions. Instincts kicking in, I jumped from the roof through the skylight.

Cathy yelped and turned the dagger on me, holding it in front of her, and I saw who her son learned his stance from.

“Aldrich?” she questioned, a flicker of relief on her face before being shadowed by disappointment. Her eyebrows furrowed. I was not the scent she detected.

There were worse presences than me at the moment.

                They come barreling through the door, masked wolves that were silent with every step. I recognized none of their scents, and they were not in uniform, sporting all black attire. They seemed well-trained at first glance, moving together in a stealthy unit. I was masked, but I knew they recognized my scent. I did not smell them in the forest on my way here—they must be assassins that have tracked me here. 

                I roared out as one of them pierced my shoulder with a blade. They cornered me without a weapon, and somehow knew I would protect the cottage. Somehow knew I would be here and not at the banquet that was being thrown for me. 

                Perhaps they knew something I didn’t. 

                Rage fled through me—they were trying to assassinate a prince, but also a war general. I did not need a grand weapon. I grabbed a butter knife from the table, jutting it into the man’s eye as he stormed me. He cried out and in the mere second he was vulnerable, I thrashed my claws through his throat. The assassin fell, lifeless to the ground, blood not seeping but pouring from him. 

                There were two more. One came flying in after the first, his claws directed right at my stomach. The element of surprise deeming him successful, his jagged daggers ripped a shallow wound in my gut. I growled, trying to mask the sudden pain then lunged toward him, my teeth bared. He may have had the element of surprise, of cheap guerilla warfare, but I had better combat skills. It was easy to take him down; I sunk my teeth into his shoulder and thrashed, flinging him to the floor. Once he was down, I gave him the killing blow of my claws through his chest, piercing his heart. 

                I noticed Theo ran out of his bedroom with a small fruit knife to stand protectively in front of Cathy. She screamed at him for coming out, and pushed him behind her, still holding out her dagger in case any got behind me. 

                The split second I looked toward them, the assassin did get behind me, clearly assessing their importance. He lunged toward Cathy; claws extended, snarling. I roared in response, and before he could get to her, my claws were already daggering through his back. 

                He plopped to the floor like a butchered piece of meat. 

                A moment passed by. Cathy looked at me, horrifically bewildered. She was shaking, her breaths coming out in pants. After a few more moments, she lowered the dagger. 

                “What are you doing here?” she managed in a ragged whisper. 

                I didn’t answer, turning to leave. I did not know the answer to that, either. 

                The door was suddenly much farther than before. And why was it spinning? As I was making my way to it, I was suddenly on the ground, a wave of darkness crashing over me. 




Cathy
“Aldrich?!” I yelled out as he relinquished, a mass of muscle collapsing heavily to the ground. 
I watched in horror as the noble prince, war general, and experienced soldier fell unconscious on my floor. He had spent most of his adult life in war, probably combatting the most notorious generals and warriors, but passed out in my living room onto my daisies. 
“Shit,” I muttered as I rushed over to him. He inflicted wounds during the battle, but they were shallow—he was able to kill all three of them within a minute. But something weakened him, something worse than shallow gashes. Something I was not aware of. 
As my brain reeled over what it could be, I realized I was afraid of him dying.
Theo skittered over and helped me move Aldrich, who morphed into his human form. We managed to drag him then lift him onto my bed, not caring that his blood stained my sheets. I flinched at the familiar sight of him in bed and tried to forget the last time I saw him in this state.
Th

#Chapter 7: Saving the Villain