The Queen of the She-Wolves

Another ghastly howl. This time, he could ascertain that the creature was off to his right and much closer than it was previously.

Red stopped in his tracks. He waited there for his fate. Every instinct told him that this wolf was hunting and running would only serve to excite it into a chase, which he would quickly lose. So, he decided that the best course of action was to stand his ground and fight. He grabbed a fallen branch and waited.

The mist began to glow. It glowed pale like silver and grew brighter. Soon, the mist was parted by the light, and there before him stood not one but two magnificent wolves. They appeared identical, except for the colors of their eyes -- one had verdant eyes like emeralds, and the other had eyes like blue sapphire. They looked upon him with steady, relaxed poise as if masters of these woods. Emperors commanded such presence.

He stood uncertainly. They watched him, holding his breath, waiting for them to change their mood and attack. They never did. Instead, they turned and trotted away, and looked back at him, seeming to wait for him, seeming to urge him to follow them. So, he did.

He took a few trepid steps towards the wolves. They turned away, hopped off over a log and trotted further, often looking back to ensure he followed. He went into a trot to keep up with them. They broke into a gallop, so he jogged. And then he heard it. The trickling of a stream. The sound lit a fire in his heart. He broke into a sprint until he came to the wolves at a bank of a creek. At their paws was a lush patch of the blue nightshade he sought.

The two wolves lower their heads towards the flowers, gaze back up at Red, and whined as if to say, "hurry, take them!"

Red approached the wolves cautiously, but they only stepped aside and watched as he kneeled to gather the flowers. He stuffed his pockets full of them until there were no more to pick. Then he hopped to his feet and began to run back to Kyra, but the mist stopped him quickly as if it were a wall. In the excitement, he had forgotten which direction he had come from. He looked to the left and to the right and realized it was hopeless, and he had to simply trust his instinct. Though his instincts got him out of plenty of trouble, a good ranger never felt comfortable needing to rely on instinct alone. It was a sinking feeling.

Just as he was about to pick a direction and run, the wolves darted past him. The mist parted for the wolves and the wolves barked at him to follow again. They did not lead him astray the first time, so he followed. They led him back to the campsite.

The campsite, or what was once a campsite, now a burning battlefield, came into view, and relief washed over him. Once near the camp, the wolves darted off silently into the mist, not to be seen again. The mystery of the wolf saviors would have to wait until after he administered the antidote.

Approaching the camp, he saw bulging shapes hovering over Kyra's body. Goblins that have circled back after their retreat.

"Get the fuck away from her!" He growled.

The Goblins screeched and stumbled over each other as they got to their feet. They reached for their weapons, but he was already upon them. He kicked one hard in the face, and the head went smashing into a tree trunk with a sickening thud. The other managed to grab one of Red's dirks and swing. Red evaded, grabbed the goblin's outstretched hand, and turned the blade into the goblin's chest. It let out a pitiful yelp as it died.

The goblins had begun to tear at Kyra's clothes from her body. Her coat and blouse were in tatters, and her breasts were bare and pale. He had arrived just in time. A still beating heart was a delicacy for the goblins. A moment later, and she would have a chest empty of its heart. Red had interrupted them only moments before they tore her heart from her chest.

Though weakly, she still breathed. She looked up at him and gave him a weak smile. She was delirious. Her hair was a wet mop full of sweat.

"You came back," she rasped, seeming genuinely surprised that he had returned.

"Of course, I did. I've some flowers for you," Red said.

"How very wonderful. I'm flattered."

He stuffed as big of a wad of the flowers as he could fit into his mouth and chewed fervently, then, when it had turned into a mushy mound, stuffed the fresh poultice into her wound. He crammed more into his cheeks, chewed, and filled the wound until it was brimming with the moist poultice.

Kyra was shivering intensely, so he removed his coat to cover her body. He brought the water pouch to her lips, and she gulped it. Her hand went up to touch his cheek. Her palm was cold, but it was a tender touch. He looked into her eyes, smiled at her. He could see that now that the poultice had started to have an impact. Her breathing calmed. Though she was weak, she did not seem fearful. Her hand went from his cheek to the back of his neck, her fingers combing through his hair. She pulled his head down and craned her neck to bring her face to his and kissed him.

After the kiss, she whispered, "Thank you for the flowers."

Then she closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.

He watched her for a few minutes to ensure that she would be fine. It was never a certainty that the antidote would find all the toxins, so he didn't rest easy until he was sure enough time had passed for the antidote to work its magic. He grabbed the whiskey and drank to calm his nerves. Calmness was the magic of whiskey. It also made him pensive. He thought a lot about Kyra as he watched her. The kiss was a surprise, but he had already attributed it to the deliriousness brought on by the death shade toxin. He was sure she didn't mean it and would not remember it come morning. He was also surprised at himself for the effort and the risk he took for her. Anyone else that close to death, he would have considered letting die. He was usually a callous man. Life made him that way. It was, he was sure, how he survived for so long. This time, however, something about Kyra motivated him to ensure she lived, and it was more than the reward she offered. His heart weighed heavy (with at least an ounce) of caring for her.

After he was sure she would make it, he built a fire and put her beside it. He lay nearby and dozed to sleep, with his last thoughts a realization that this was the first time he had cared enough about anyone to be so relieved that they lived. It was a strange and good thought to have.

Chapter 3. The Dream

A lucid dream came to him that night. A dream that had a feeling of familiarity the way a childhood memory might. But this was no dream of childhood.

He stands alone in the Greywood forest. No mist obscures his vision. Trees around him with tremendous girth seem made of thick stone, like cathedral columns. Their shadows are dark and still like deep ponds. There is a quiet emptiness that hid coursing energy as if the depth of the shadows teemed with life. He is a stranger in this world, and all in it is mysterious to him, but he feels a part of it.

A haunting howl comes unfettered by the thickness of the forest. Its echoes bounce off tree trunks as if off sheer mountain walls, sounding both near and far.

Red spots the creature between the trees. Its eyes are honey gold, its fur silver.

It flicks its ears, lowers its head as if to bow, then it lopes off.

Red gives chase. The silver shape darts through the trees ahead, running swiftly, stopping at a distance only to allow Red to follow. This seems to be a game.

Eventually, the trees thin out, and for once, in what seemed years, moonlight illuminates the forest floor. They arrive at a lake. The full moon reflects its light off the mirror water surface.

The wolf goes to the bank, puts its head down, and laps the water, disturbing it with tiny ripples that propagate outward in arcs.

The wolf looks back up at Red, licks its lips, then a shocking thing happens:

It begins to glow brightly with a moonglow. It goes to its hind legs, and its legs transform into slender naked human legs. Its forearms grow into naked human arms. Its furry chest loses its fur and sprouts bare breasts. In a matter of seconds, what was a wolf has transformed into a beautiful woman. Her hair is silver like snow on granite peaks. Her eyes are amber still, a supernatural color in humans, and they stare at him with that same wolfish curiosity. Though the air is frigid, the naked woman shows no discomfort.

Her lips form a devilish smile. Her hands rest on her hips. She steps into the lake and motions to him with a finger to follow.

"Come here, child," she says.

As beckoned, he trudges forward, stepping into the lake. The freezing water seeps into his leather boots and shocks his nerves, but he ignores the discomfort and walks to her.

When he is close enough, she offers a hand. He grabs it, and it is pleasantly warm. She pulls him towards her gently. Her other hand curls behind his head, and she pulls his face towards her. She is as warm as a furnace.

"You are savage," The woman says with a tremulous whisper in his ear.

She plants a tender, wet kiss on one cheek. Then the other. Then she kisses him on his lips.

She draws her body closer so that her body touches his. The heat of her hot body melts into his until his coursing blood is thoroughly hot and the air no longer bites.

Her hand goes down his chest and plucks the buttons loose from his coat and his blouse beneath until his chest is bare. Then her fingers rake his bare chest. They go down farther, finding their way into his pants to wrap around his growing cock.

"A savage killer you are. Are you also savage in love?"

Her hand gently massages his cock. Red groans in pleasure. He has just enough wits about him to say in response,

"I can be if that's what you want."

She laughs.

"It is indeed what I want." Her hand slides out of his pants. She takes several steps backward and beckons him with a seductive curl of her finger, then turns and walks towards the island in the center of the lake. He follows unquestioningly as if powerless to do otherwise.

The water comes up to her naked thighs but goes no higher as she strides slowly out towards the island. They walk on a submerged stone bridge.

The island ahead is only a large plain mound. There is nothing there, save for tall grass and a few tall oak and conifer trees. But as they near the island, the clouds above them begin to break apart as a howling wind picks up. pleasure. The moon peeks out from between the clouds. It is full and copper-red and looms ominously.

The woman continues towards the island, and as she walks, she begins a haunting chant. Her voice is carried on the wind. The chant is in an ancient language. Though he does not understand what she says, it is vaguely familiar.

A dark shadow descends onto the island like a fast-moving storm cloud as she finishes the chant. A behemoth structure fades into view. A magnificent palace with spires that reach into the clouds. Its walls are covered in moss, lichen, and vines as if it had been there for a thousand years. Its windows glow orange, suggesting that living things reside within.

The palace gates open for the woman, and she walks through them.

"Come. There is no danger, only nourishment."

In the grand foyer, the candles are lit, and fires roar in braziers. Moonlight shines in from the tall and high stained-glass windows. The room is a breathtaking expanse of divine beauty fit for the Ancients, but they do not loiter here long enough for him to study its beauty. The woman continues, taking the stairs at the end of the grand foyer. She leads him through a long vaulted-ceiling corridor until they reach a spiral staircase that led up a tower. They climb the tower until they are in a spacious round bed chamber at the top.

The forest below is obscured from view by a thick layer of mist or clouds that reflect the pale moonlight. The cloud layer is a vast, rolling sea. Above the moon is a ruby pendant, and the stars are a thousand diamonds encrusted on the black gown of heaven.

A marble altar stands in the center of the round bedchamber. Silk sheets cover it as if that is all that is needed for comfort. The woman that was a wolf climbs onto it, and she stays on her knees and hands, and arches her back in a feline way, presenting to him a glistening almond sliver pussy. She looks back at him with an aching lust in her eyes.

"Come and be nourished."

Every ounce of his body rings with alarms of a trap, but he does not respond to them. He ignores them. This is a dream, after all. Instead, he takes his coat off. Then his shirt. He comes to the foot of the bed. He unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his trousers. His cock springs out.

"Enter me. Put your seed in me," says the woman.

He climbs onto the bed to his knee and slowly inserts the tip of his throbbing cock into her slick pussy. Though it is tight, his cock slides in easily and is enveloped by her warmth.

His body fills with electricity. His cock twitches as he pushes it deeper into her. She moans with every inch it enters. Her moan echoes and is carried off by the frigid wind into the night.

He thrusts faster. He tightens his grip on her hips, gripping into the crease of her hip, digging his nails into the soft fat as he uses it as leverage to thrust into her as deep as possible.

The pleasure is overwhelming. He closes his eyes. A fire grows from within him as he hears the echoes of her voice inside her head, asking him,are you savage in love?

Wolves howl in the forest below. A strong urge wells up within him to join them in their song. The fire courses through his veins. His hearing grows sharper. So does his sense of smell. The scent of sex enters him with vivid colors. The smell is familiar as if to come from a woman he knows well.

He thrusts his cock into her harder and faster, and she screams for more. Her pussy pulses around his cock. She is getting closer to orgasm.

His transformation continues. His muscles tighten and enlarge. His cock enlarges though he is already fully erect. He feels his teeth sharpen into fangs, and a primal lust pounds his mind like a drum.

He knows what he is. He is Lycan just as she is.

Soon, his orgasm wells up inside him with potent power, and he unleashes it, exploding into her, filling her with his cum in explosive waves. Her pussy clenches tightly. He stays deep inside until every drop of his cum is in her. When he finishes, he collapses atop her, panting hard.

The wolves outside still howl.

"Thank you for that," she whispers. Her voice is different now. It is familiar. He opens his eyes and looks down, and a jolt of surprise hits him when he sees not silver but onyx black hair and eyes of grey hazel.

"Kyra," he mutters.

Her mouth opens in a broad smile, and he sees sharp wolfish canines.

Chapter 4. The Lycan Queen

"Hey!"

He opened his eyes.

Kyra's face hovered above him. Her hands clasped his shoulders. They had just finished shaking him awake. He sprang up to sit.

"You were having a nightmare. It sounded like the fight of a lifetime."

"Something like that. I dreamt of you, actually."

Kyra snorted. "I'm glad I have that effect on you. Well, it is morning. We should breakfast and be on our way."

With the dream still fresh and real in his mind, he first offered only a blank stare in return but quickly snapped out of it.

"Right. Breakfast."

It was dark but noticeably brighter than before, which he could tell by the slight tint of green in the forest rather than the black of night. Above, speckles of sunlight broke through the leaves and twinkled in the canopy like stars. The sunlight dappled the mossy forest floor.

He rubbed his eyes, yawned. The dream began to fade. He decided to think nothing more of it and instead turned his attention to Kyra's health.

"You're alright, Kyra?"

She nodded, lifted the hem of her blouse to show him the spot where the arrow had penetrated. The wound had already closed and appeared now as a pink scar.

"The scar will remain. I'm unhappy about that. But you saved my life, Red. Thank you."

"You saved both of our lives. If it weren't for you, we'd both be rotating on a spit over an open fire right now."

"Hey, we make a pretty good team, don't we?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I suppose we do."

She smiled. He smiled back. He remembered the kiss from last night and wondered if she remembered too. He thought to ask but decided against it.

"We should hurry," Kyra said. "The blood moon reaches its height tomorrow night."

The red moon from his dream flashed into his mind. Then there were flashes of the sex.

"Blood moon? I'm not sure what that means," Red replied, shaking the memories from his mind.

"You'll see."

She grabbed his hand, pulled him to his feet, then put a hardtack biscuit in his hand and stuffed one in her mouth. The hardtack went down roughly. He chased it with water from his water pouch, then gathered his bag, bow, and the quiver, then strapped his dirks onto his legs.

A quiet day's march led to an unassuming evening. They made camp, and a fire, to which Kyra gave enchantment to ensure it does not extinguish in the night.

A soft rain began to patter all around them, drowning out the nocturnal chorus of the woods. They huddled together beneath an awning that Red had pitched beside the campfire. From the warmth of the fire and the small world that the rain created for them, they relaxed. Most forest creatures will have taken shelter on account of the rain. Goblins, in particular, are rather pestered by it, so Red was certain that no ambush would come tonight. In short order, they both dozed to sleep.

***

The following day, he awoke from a dreamless sleep to a still pattering rain against the canvas roof above them. The fire, which had been out in the rain all night, still crackled cheerily and sung as raindrops hit it. He found Kyra curled tight as a sleeping cat against his body. Her body warmed him, and her easy breathing was comforting. How natural it seemed to lay there with her, he thought. How peaceful it felt. He didn't allow the thought to linger long. He shook it from his mind and nudged her awake.

"We will be at the lake by nightfall," Red said.

"Good."

They packed their gear without conversation and were soon on their way. The rain came down steadily throughout the day and put them both in a sullen mood.

As they neared the lake, Red could feel a familiarity with the forest. It wasn't a familiarity in the sense that he had been here before, which he had, but a deep-seated familiarity, a connection to it as an ancestral home.

He frequently thought of wolves, and his eyes constantly darted between the trees in an attempt to spot one. He thought to tell Kyra about his encounters, of the two wolves that saved her life, and of the one in her dream, but a part of him compelled him to keep silent.

As they neared the lake, the forest landscape became more claustrophobic, not because the trees became denser, but because massive boulders rose around them and formed canyon walls.

"Stay away from the caves in the walls and keep your eyes open," Red advised Kyra. "Creatures here prey on the inattentive."

Kyra did not respond with her usual wit. Instead, she stayed silent, perhaps so deep in thought that she may not have heard him.

The massive canyons that formed around them were not geological formations created by any natural process. These canyons were battle scars, and the lake was a great crater formed by a calamitous war between the Ancients. He did not remember where he had heard these tales, but he knew them, nevertheless.

Of course, the legends had no bearing on his life. At least not until today. Today, he felt that he and Kyra were on a collision course with the legends. He suspected that Kyra knew they were, and that was why she had been so quiet. As they grew closer to the lake, his heart thrummed with nervousness.