A Werewolf's Tale
pine, it had the soft texture from its proximity to forests. Lyra was way out on the skirts of the village. She had her hands now braced against a weather-beaten and splintery wooden rail
fing thin wafts of smoke into the dimming sky. It was a peaceful sight - one she
he darkening horizon, it came to the distant trees that st
elieved in things like that - not really. But still deep down, she was inexplicably drawn to the forest when she
ding winter lingered in the wind, but the cold wasn't what had her on edge tonight.
that prowled the woods around them. The ritual, they said, was needed to keep things peaceful with the wolves. I
nounce the bride they had chosen, and no matter how she did
up. Eira's long silver-gray hair shone in the waning light, and her sharp b
uiet, but there was no denying the gravity in h
ing in knots. She nodded, unable to
words sounded unconfident. "I won't become their bride. I d
h a sigh, she looked up to the horizon with its dark silhouette of the forest. "I realize this isn't what you want, however, th
k her hands away from Eira's grip. "I don't
. "You might not think you have any obligations toward them, but the pack has safeg
e. "I don't care if they are safe. I care about my freedom. "I will not b
you have. The wolves are long memory creatures, Lyra, and they don't forget... not even... especially not the alpha.' She lowered her voice to a wh
frown appeared on Lyra), it was cl
oon enough, little one. The night of the full moon nears. The ritual cannot
the word slipping from her lips. "It can't be me
ut you have ties to them that you can't yet grasp. The blood runs deep, Lyra. Deeper than you know
which was worse, the thought of being bound to the alpha of the pack, or the terr
, winding through thick woods and deep hills; a
pulling her back. Soon they came to the forest's edge as whispering leaves began to shake, you could tell it was coming by how twisted and seething the trees became. Her every breath spoke of mysteries and forgotten might. Lyra shivered,