The Royal Wolf and Hades' Daughter

Chapter 1 Shifting Demons

The wolves howled outside. It seemed that their cries had been getting louder and louder every night. At first, Prince Samuel thought it was a call as the moon had begun to wax, approaching fullness. Perhaps it was time for a run, with both shifters and wolves, his nocturnal friends. His mother’s friend Farah, a spirit witch, touched his shoulder when she saw him moving towards the front door.

“Where are you going, Your Highness?” she asked, her voice husky but kind.

“I’m going to see what is happening outside,” he said, no longer bothering to hide his activities from his closest family and friends.

“Do you think it is wise?” she asked, her face inscrutable. The prince noticed that the lines on her brown face had become deeper. On her, it did not take away from her beauty. It merely made her look wiser. She had been his mother’s and father’s friend for almost thirty years.

“They seemed to be calling me. I think that is what it was – a call. Or am I mistaken?” Samuel saw the knowing look on Farah’s face.

“No, it is not a call. It is a natural reaction. The wolves that you hear are not all shifters. Some are just animals in the forests, bothered by her.”

“Her? Who are you talking about?” Samuel thought of the woman he had been hunting for the past few months. It could not have been that woman. She was a shifter, that one. Or a witch. Or both.

“A demoness. A ghost. Whenever this demoness walks the earth, the animals feel her presence. They tremble with fear.”

Samuel scoffed. “Afraid of one ghost? One woman? All these wolves could not be afraid of such a ghost.”

“Have you seen a ghost? A demon, Samuel?”

The prince knew that whenever Farah called him by his name, she was at her most maternal. Of course, he had not seen a ghost, but he believed he could handle anything now. What else should he be afraid of when his bones broke and reformed at every transformation? Any demoness could not possibly trump the pain that wracked his whole body.

He was not afraid of her, whoever she was.

“I have not, Farah. But I know I can deal with one – or even more,” Samuel said, opening the door and stepping outside. Farah looked on, shaking her head in disbelief, but anyone could tell that there was also fondness there. She could still remember when Samuel was born, when they had to scramble to shave his hairy legs.

At that time, he looked more like a satyr than a werewolf. They all knew that taking away the hair would not take away the curse, but they still did what they did. It was a way to comfort Queen Soraya, banish all her guilt. King Adrian also had moments when he wished he had not risen from the dead, but the sight of their children, Samuel, Luella, and Carolina, often eased his mind.

Samuel was perfect; they all agreed. He was a beautiful boy who grew into a handsome man. Tall, broad-shouldered, and with his father’s features, who would not want him as a husband? Even if the wolf came out some nights, he was primarily a mortal prince during the day. Princesses had sent their portraits. Servant girls slipped into his room, with the guise of bringing wine and sweets, but mainly bringing themselves.

King Adrian’s heir was a shifter. A wolf. They did not know the extent of it or if he could shift into something else.

“It’s your magic,” Queen Soraya had said to her son when he was about seventeen. Samuel’s younger sister Luella had already been manifesting little bursts of fire, but her older brother had nothing. He had not inherited any of the magic his parents had. His only comfort was that Carolina had nothing, either. She did not even have a throne to inherit, but she was one of the wealthiest young women in Mogochislenia.

Samuel was the heir to Shadowcreek, the firstborn son. A lot of pressure was on him, untested by war and unhindered by any hardship. The firstborn was half-human, half-wolf.

The air was crisp. Samuel liked it that way. He lifted his nose to sniff at the air. He breathed it in, expanding his lungs and sighing. The acceptance that he had felt about his curse was due to the forest shifters.

The other night, he discovered that there was another group of shifters. They seemed to be more powerful, transforming back to their human form with clothes on, shifting by will. He had read about them. They were often mentioned in books, in different names. One of their names had stood out. Proteus. Protean. Mimics. Skinwalkers. It could be one of them. Whatever they called themselves, they could transform by will. They had magic. Samuel wanted what they had. He would find out, perhaps through his scholarly sister Carolina or Martha, the herb witch. Farah was too loyal to his mother that every whisper would be passed on to her. Martha was also loyal, but she could be swayed.

“But you have been teaching Caro all the time,” he imagined himself cajoling the herb witch. She would probably shrug her shoulders, sit on a stool, and tell him stories he needed to hear.

Technically, Samuel could shift by will sometimes. He only needed to get into a rage. It did not have to be a full moon. But he knew that there was no sense of control when it happened. It always felt like something took over until he started running in the forests with the other creatures.

There was joy in it.

The crows and the panther had also provided him with a sense of security. He knew that they would fight to the death to protect him. They had been with them for as long as he could remember. Samuel was unsure if his family was aware of the panther, but they knew about the crows.

Of course, the crows were there that night, one even brazenly perched on his shoulder. Weren’t they supposed to be harbingers of death? Weren’t they supposed to bring bad luck? And yet, they had served as his caretakers, his guardians, whenever he set foot outside the gate.

Therefore, the demoness could well be something else, a misunderstood ghost or a once-jilted lover. The wolves were not running away from her, that was for sure. They were announcing her passage, like a crowd cheering a queen. At least, that was where Samuel’s imagination went.

His father knew that he had been leaving the grounds.

“You are a grown man, Samuel. I know you need to run, but use your senses to check for danger. Return to the castle grounds as soon as you feel something different.”

The king believed that his son had heightened senses that he could benefit from. Samuel was thankful for the vouch of confidence. If it were up to his mother, he would never leave the gates.

The guards were asleep. It was not a time of war, and so his mother’s men were getting careless. As much as he benefited from this carelessness, he worried that in times of war, these guards would be of no help. Samuel would be of no use, either. He was trained in combat and could shift to a wolf, but he had never tested what he learned in real-life battles. It was shameful, but surely he could not wish for war just because he wanted to test himself.

Outside the gate, he sniffed. His sense of smell had become stronger, even when he was in human form. He could smell her. It was the witch from the other night. She was somewhere, lingering enough to leave her scent or close enough to catch.

Melinoe.

Even her name was mysterious, strange, and beautiful. Then, Samuel heard a rustling sound. He turned his head, hoping to get a glimpse of the dark-haired beauty, but what he saw was red.

Yes, red. His sister's hair.

He sighed audibly. It was Carolina on the run into the woods, again. Was she going to meet Xavier? He decided that he was going to follow his youngest sister that night. So, he did. It was easy. She smelled of roses and mint. It was a powerful sign that though she was not manifesting, she was still a witch. He wondered what he smelled like.

She slipped through the forests. Her brother followed. He was shocked at what he saw. She was not meeting a lover in the woods. Instead, she was meeting a coven of dark witches, wearing hoods over their heads. Where was Xavier, anyway? Samuel almost wished that he were there, kissing his sister – or something more normal than what he was seeing.

Were there more demons in the forest that he cared to know?

As he turned, he saw a fiery bird flying into the air. Samuel could only laugh. It seemed that all three siblings were out that night. Their mother would have a fit.