The Cursed Wolf
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The Cursed Wolf (A Prologue to The Cursed Princes Trilogy)
by Amber Jantine
Copyright 2017 by Amber Jantine. All rights reserved.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Excerpt from the Cursed Princes Trilogy
About Amber Jantine
Chapter One
Theresa Goethel heard what could best be described as a quiet explosion. An argument done in whispers.
It wasn't the first time.
Lately, everyone had been eager to discuss her, but without letting her hear what was being said. Many avoided eye contact, almost as if she wasn't there. The latter was likely caused by the scandal of her situation. What she had done, the liberties that she’d allowed Edward to take with her, were so far out of the realm of propriety, that once knowledge of them became public, she had become an outcast.
No longer fit to be a part of society.
Someone said her name. A man's voice. She peeked out.
Several men had gathered around her mother's fire. She recognized one of them instantly: her former childhood playmate, Christopher.
It had been more than six years since she'd last seen him. Six years since he’d abruptly dropped out of her life with no explanation.
The years had been good to him.
He had already been tall for his age, but now he was broad-shouldered with muscular arms that were each as thick as her waist. Not surprising, considering what he did for a living. He had followed his father and brothers into the woods, cutting timber for the villagers who were too afraid to venture into the dark forest.
He dropped to one knee before her mother, as did the other men. She gave each of them a large amulet suspended on a leather thong. They put them over their necks, then began to strip off their clothing.
What were they doing?
"The moon will be rising soon." Mother did not appear the slightest bit concerned about the fact that she was now surrounded by a half-dozen naked men. "I have it on good authority that your target will be traveling along the main road tonight. You know what to do."
Target?
Theresa stepped out of her room. Christopher turned, as if he had heard her approach, yet she didn't think she had made a sound.
Her first look at his face made her gasp.
Long scars were etched into one side of his face, from close to his eye down to his chin. There were more scars on his neck too. His dark eyes were full of pain. Haunted. "I'm doing this for you," he whispered. So softly, she could barely hear him.
But he didn't say anything more, silently filing in behind the rest of the men who were now leaving their small hovel. Mother was watching them leave, her lips twisted in a smile that made Theresa shudder, for it was far from a happy expression. It was bitter and ugly.
"Mother? What's going on?"
"They will avenge you, my dear."
"Avenge?"
Mother's smile turned even more hideous, taking on a look that Theresa had never seen from her before. "He won't get away with what he did to you."
He? There was only one person she could be referring to.
Edward.
Just thinking his name was enough to make her eyes burn with unshed tears. She tried to fight them back.
She had she cried over that man far too many times in the month since he'd broken her heart.
He and his brothers were sailors. Staying at the inn where Theresa had been working as a chambermaid. It had been quite a sight, the first time she had seen them. They were taller than most men and had black hair and bright blue eyes. Each strikingly handsome on his own.
As a group they had been breathtaking.
The older and younger of the two brothers had been kind but dismissive. Barely seeing her as anything more than a part of the scenery.
Edward had been different. She had been too innocent to know what that gleam in his eye had meant, but at the time, it might not have mattered. All she had cared about was the fact that he seemed to see her. Really see her. And his flattery and attention had led her to believe he was courting her.
That was when she had surrendered everything to him. Her heart. Her innocence. Her body.
She'd thought that he loved her. That he was going to marry her.
But then she'd seen him with another maid at the inn. The way they had talked and the way the other woman had run her hand down his chest had made it clear that she was intimately acquainted with Edward in a way that Theresa had believed was reserved for herself alone.
He had not openly laughed when she had confronted him about it, though he had looked amused by the whole thing. He’d said that he had made her no promises of that kind and yet… she believed that he had. She never would have yielded to him in the way that she had without some assurances of there being a future for the two of them.
Together.
It was so confusing.
There was one consequence of her actions that she had been able to avoid. Theresa rested her hand over her flat belly. It would remain so now, thanks to her mother’s magic.
The thought still haunted her. Leaving her full of regret and sorrow. And confusion. Knowing Edward the way she did now, seeing him with the clear eyes of a woman no longer in love, she wasn’t so certain she would have wanted to have his child.
Or did she?
Would a pregnancy have made a difference in the way that things had ended between them? Would have wanted to be with him, under those circumstances? Knowing that he was only with her because of their child and not because he cared about her in any way.
She didn’t know.
Of course, that was assuming that he would have done the ‘right’ thing and married her after she’d told him that she was expecting.
Either way, Mother had insisted that it was better for Theresa to not bear Edward’s bastard. Despite her early encouragement of her attachment to the sailor, Mother appeared quick to believe the worst in him when the truth arose.
It was confusing, to say the least.
But Theresa had other things to wonder at now. Such as what Mother was planning to do with those men? Christopher had said he was going to do it for her.
Would they kill Edward?
As much as she hated him now, she didn’t want his blood on their hands. Especially on Christopher’s. She remembered him as a very gentle boy. One who had never wanted to harm anything.
Not even a rabbit.
The act of taking a life would scar him. Forever.
Outside, it was growing dark and the full moon was rising. The men stood a short distance away.
Though standing wasn’t the right word to describe what was happening. They were twisting. Their bodies contorting as if they were in real pain. Changing shape. Fur covered their bodies and they began to walk on all fours. Snarling and exposing wickedly sharp teeth.
Wolves.
The meaning of her mother’s words became clear. She was sending these men as beasts, as monsters, to destroy Edward. Theresa had heard of men cursed to be wolves but had always assumed they were nothing more than myth. It was said that they became the animals in both body and soul on the nights of the full moon, with little ability for rational thought or conscious feeling.
Maybe… maybe she could stop them.
She slipped into her room, pausing only to grab her cloak before climbing out through the small window.
Lifting her skirt in both hands, she began to run toward the main road, her cloak flaring out like a dark wave behind her.
Long before she could see anything, she heard the screams. Horrible, awful cries of pain and fear.
It sounded like more than one voice.
Meaning that Edward had not been alone. But who—
By the time she reached the road, it was too late. Three bodies lay upon the hard-packed earth and smooth, rounded stones.
Edward and his two brothers, Luke and Adrian.
The latter made her stomach turn. They'd had nothing to do with the situation. They were not to blame for what their brother had done. It was likely that they had not known what he was doing at the time. She had never encountered them while she was meeting up with Edward.
Not even once.
The men-turned-wolves were still there. Still pacing and circling about the bodies. Howling and whining in a mixed chorus of triumph and sorrow.
There was a slight movement and her attention was drawn back to the three brothers. Their chests were rising and falling.
They were not dead.
Yet the extent of their injuries was so bad that they might end up wishing for death.
Horror nearly stole her breath and her senses. One of the wolves turned to look at her. Something about the look in this particular creature's dark brown eyes made her think that it must be Christopher.
And he almost seemed to recognize her.
That should have been impossible. Wasn't it?
At least, according to the old legends...
The other wolves saw her and began to growl.
She couldn't tell if they were snarling at her or if they were expressing anything other than sheer aggression, but she wasn't about to wait around to find out.
Theresa whirled and raising her skirts once more, she fled.
Big mistake.
The scratching of claws against rock, the occasional breaking of twigs, indicated that at least one of the wolves had chosen to pursue her. She'd assumed that her mother's magic, that amulet that she'd given them, would make them safer to approach.
Instead, it seemed that they may not actually know who she was. And were reacting on the instincts of a predator alone.
Theresa could not run forever. Stumbling, she fell and closed her eyes as she braced for the attack.
It did not come.
There was a low whine and something warm and wet touched her cheek. She cracked her eyes open and felt the hot breath of the wolf in her face as it licked away the tears she had not realized were sliding down her face.
The wolf whined again, placing its front paw in her lap. It was almost a pleading gesture and she stared at it. Fascinated.
She had assumed that the instincts of an animal were all-consuming. But this was very human. Very friendly.
She stared into the wolf's eyes. The dark, nearly black color could not be natural, yet there was something hauntingly familiar about it at the same time.
Christopher.
Theresa didn't know why she was so absolutely certain of his identity, but there was not a doubt in her mind. She shifted into a sitting position and reached out to touch him.
The dark brown fur was silky-soft. Not what she had expected. Was that normal for a wolf, or was that something that had been held over from his human-shape, just as the color of his eyes had been?
She didn't know.
Even as children, she'd never touched Christopher. She'd been taught that it was improper from a very young age, though she did sometimes wonder if part of it had been due to her mother’s desire to discourage any sort of closeness between Theresa and the son of a woodsman.
She'd always said that Theresa was destined for better.
A better marriage. A better life.
She had never understood that line of thinking when she was younger. Especially after she'd begun working at the inn. She’d still been a girl, not even thirteen but it had been necessary to help support her mother. Without her father around and no other relatives to help, they had few other alternatives.
Mother's magic occasionally brought in income, though her powers were not something that was generally known. Among those who did know, most tended to avoid her unless they needed something. Nor could they afford to pay her. They did sometimes barter for her services in exchange for wood, or meat, or whatever else they had skill to gather. And the things that Mother needed to work her enchantments rarely came cheap, outside of the herbs and roots that she sometimes gathered from around the forest.
Despite their poverty, Mother had always retained high ambitions for Theresa's future.
Which was why she had been a little surprised that she'd encouraged her affections for Edward. He was a sailor, just as his brothers were. Not exactly much higher in rank than the woodsmen, though they did have a chance to make a slightly better income. It wasn't as if they had belonged to a real navy, where they could have risen quite high.
Then again, if they had been, they likely would never have come to this country. Would not have been welcomed here, except under more extraordinary circumstances.
Something in the distance caught her attention. It was the other wolves. Gathered in a circle all around them. Staring.
Christopher stirred slightly but showed no sign of aggression. Then, as one, the other animals departed.
The wolf lying in her lap rose. Licking her in the face once more, it began to trot off in the opposite direction from the one that the others had taken. He paused near a tree, turning to look at her with his head tilted to one side, ears pricked in a manner similar to a curious or inquisitive dog.
"Do you want me to follow you?" Even though she was reasonably certain that this wolf was her childhood friend, it still felt decidedly odd to be talking to a beast as if it were a human.
Then the wolf... nodded.
Some part of him was still conscious. Still a person, in a way. The full moon caught on a glint of metal among the dark fur.
The amulet.
Somehow... this must be her mother's magic again.
She rose and followed Christopher through the woods.
Deeper and deeper among the trees, in an area where they were growing together so densely that the moonlight could barely penetrate through to the ground. Theresa stumbled several times and the wolf moved to stand beside her. Looking at its shoulder then at her and back again.
Silently, she placed her hand on its fur again. Stepping where he stepped, they made their way along a small path that was barely carved out from the underbrush. It led to a clearing.
And a shack.
A woodcutter's cabin. The place where Christopher and his fellow woodsmen would stay for the night if the weather happened to turn before they could return to the village.
It was shelter.
In that moment, she finally realized that she was shivering. She had been so caught up in the strangeness of the night that she'd barely noticed the cold. But even her heavy cloak was doing little to protect her now.
Had Christopher known? Was that why he'd led her here?
She pushed the door open and they walked in together. A small lamp burned, flickering as it threatened to flame out.
Surprising, since that wasn't something that was normally left unattended. She took advantage of the minimal light it provided to look around. A fireplace was already set with fresh logs and tinder. She found the flint and set it alight.
In a very short time, heat and light filled the tiny space. It was even smaller than the home in which she and her mother lived. Just a single room with blankets laid out in rows over the dirt floor. Making it clear that when the men did stay here, they had to sleep on the ground.
She sat down on one blanket, pulling her cloak more tightly around herself as she shivered. Her body was slowly defrosting, adjusting to the blooming heat all around her, and it made her teeth chatter.
Christopher bumped the top of his head against her shoulder. She lifted the edge of the cloak so that he could press his warm, furry body against hers. She looped one arm over his neck and snuggled against him.
It shouldn't have felt so right to be with him like this. But it did. Maybe because he wasn't human right now.
Or maybe... because she knew that he was
the one person who would never hurt her.
Chapter Two
She dozed off for a while, feeling perfectly safe and at ease even with a wolf lying beside her. When she awoke again, a different kind of light was just beginning to fill the cabin.
She was no longer touching fur, but bare skin.
If she’d had any lingering doubts, now she knew. It truly had been Christopher that was the wolf and now that he was human again, he was completely naked.
Theresa knew that she shouldn't look at him, but found she couldn’t look away. The first thing that caught her attention was the continuation of the scars that marked his face. Jagged lines running down his throat, over his left shoulder, and down over his heart.
She reached out and ran her finger along one line and felt his heartbeat speed up under his hot skin. His muscles contracted. Tightened.
He looked so different from the way that she remembered. Granted, they’d still been children the last time she’d seen him less than fully dressed. When they’d gone out to that waterfall for a swim so many years ago.
He was much larger now, of course. She’d seen at a glance that he was taller, that his shoulders were broader. But there was more to it than that. His chest and arms were thick with muscle, probably thanks to the heavy work he had to do in the woods every day. Yet his stomach remained nearly as flat as it had been when he was a boy, only more defined and with a trail of dark brown hair that led to—
“What are you doing?” His voice sounded rougher than she had ever heard it before. As if that single night as a wolf had nearly made his body forget how to speak like a human.
She realized that she was still touching him and jerked her hand back as if she’d been burnt. “Sorry.”
He lifted his hand, letting his fingers graze her cheek before dropping it back to his side. His nostrils flared as if picking up a scent and his eyes darkened as he looked at her.
She recognized that look now.
Desire.
She’d first learned it with Edward but had assumed that it was something more. And she’d never expected to see her childhood friend looking at her in the same way.