The Royal Wolf and Hades' Daughter

Chapter 8 - The Princess of the Forest

Melinoe loved the thrill of the chase. She would shift into a wolf to run after deer. She never got tired, leaping over the bulging roots of ancient trees. As a witch in human form, she was graceful. As a wolf, she was something else entirely – poetry in motion, at least according to her proud mother, Erishkigal. Whenever Melinoe caught her prey, she tore at it right away. Ravenous. Wild.

The ancient witch had also described her as a beautiful killer, an assassin-in-training. The only thing she had to work on was the art of seduction, which she knew nothing of.

What she did not know was that some creatures – both human and otherwise – were beginning to be seduced by her beauty, nonetheless. Melinoe had grown into a voluptuous young woman with black hair and naturally red lips. Because of her beauty, warlocks and wolves had been asking for her hand in marriage since she was fourteen. Erishkigal said no to each pitiful plea. Her eyes were on the prize – Prince Samuel.

Melinoe could not care less. She was more interested in the hunt. It was probably why she agreed to kill the prince. The hunt was glorious, exhilarating, and ultimately satisfying.

The Princess of the Forest would usually drag her captured prey near a lake. So, when she shifted back into her human form, she would just jump in for a swim, her body dripping with blood.

As Erishkigal’s daughter, she never feared being assaulted - until that moonlit night.

Two wolves had smelled the blood on her naked body. They had rushed towards the lake, leaping and racing against each other. They growled at her, fangs out. The wolves’ muzzles were trembling, saliva dripping down their fangs as they seemed ready to tear her to pieces.

However, it was when they turned into their naked, human forms that Melinoe started to sense that something else was afoot. She also saw something silver glittering from one man’s hand. He had just picked it up from the grass near the lake. Somehow, they had planned something before that night. It was no accidental threat. None of the shifters had ever threatened her in any way. The People of Nowhere were too afraid of Erishkigal, and the Proteans were too noble and detached.

Hellhounds.

But it did not make sense. Erishkigal’s lover, Hades, loved her like a daughter. He mainly was an absentee father, but he would not turn his hounds on her.

“Come, beautiful and proud Melinoe,” said one of the werewolves, stroking himself. The Princess of the Forest looked down on the ground, disgusted at the open display of nakedness.

Melinoe almost forgot that she was a witch, clasping her arms around her naked body to protect herself from the wolves’ eyes. Then, she closed her eyes and manifested a white sheath to cover her body.

“Oh, you know that is not fair, princess,” hooted the other wolf. “You can see our bodies, but we cannot see yours.”

“I am not interested in your bodies, hounds,” spat Melinoe.

The two men started coming closer, wide grins on their faces. They seemed to be enjoying the hunt just as much as Melinoe, making the approach slow yet menacing. Melinoe’s heart started hammering in her chest.

Where was her mother?

Then, she remembered that the lake could be found on the edge of the old Hole, where former witches used to form a coven. Samuel’s father, and eventually his mother, became part of the coven that protected themselves using ancient spells.

The hounds had no problem finding her because they had been following her all along. Her mother, on the other hand, might not sense her. Erishkigal would feel something was wrong, but it might take time for her to get to the Hole.

Melinoe started praying to Freya, Hecate, and all the goddesses that she could think of. Names. Chants. She breathed hard and tried to push the two wolves away from her. Her strength was not quite there. She was not a natural witch, not an elemental. Everything that she knew was taught.

She tried to shift, finding it difficult to concentrate. She had found a weakness in her transformation. She had never been asked to transform during a state of panic. Melinoe had never felt panic before that night.

One of the men threw a silver rope around her. It was the glint of silver she saw on the grass. The two wolves pulled at the rope, dragging her towards them. Their hands blistered from their efforts, but their lust seemed to be stronger.

Finally, she was inches away from the two. Melinoe was ashamed that she could not even find the voice to scream. What kind of assassin was she if she could not even handle this situation?

Then, suddenly, as if her senses had come back to her, she kicked one of the men on the groin. He fell back, writhing in pain. The other wolf carried her on his shoulder, not giving her a chance to let her foot do damage again. Managing to get her fangs out, she bit him on the back. He howled but held on to her. She did not stop biting, drawing blood. Bound in silver, she was having a hard time doing anything else. Erishkigal had to do better in providing her with protection. She was not ready for any type of battle; her body’s vulnerability was proof of that.

Melinoe wished that she had shifted into her crow form before it was too late. The man she had kicked had started to rise, and the one carrying her placed her on the grass. She was inches away from the remains of the gutted deer she triumphantly hunted on her own. She closed her eyes and summoned all her strength. Eyes squeezed shut, the Princess of the Forest imagined blasting her attacker off her. He only staggered back a little, but barely. She tried to nudge him with her mind again, and he stumbled a bit, but his companion helped him.

She felt weak, with the silver that seemed to be clutching on her skin. She was burning. It was going to leave welts. What was worse, though, was the fate that awaited her. She would not cry. She wouldn’t. So, she simply closed her eyes.

Suddenly, she heard a loud, growling sound. She wondered if the two men had shifted. When she opened her eyes, she saw that an enormous wolf had started attacking one of the men. With one big bite, the newcomer snapped the neck of one of the assailants. The hound was in mid-transformation but did not get to complete it. The other hellhound shifted back to wolf form, fighting against the bigger wolf. They snarled at each other, but the strange wolf seemed to be teeming with anger and using it as its source of energy. It opened its muzzle and tore at the second attacker’s neck.

The remaining assailant shifted back to human form, holding its bleeding neck and running away. He stumbled, got up again, and looked back to see if the enormous wolf was in pursuit. Nobody stopped him, and so he continued running into the densest part of the forest.

“Melinoe,” the wolf said in a gentle but deep voice.

Recognition dawned on her. It was Prince Samuel.

“Your Highness?”

“You can just call me Samuel. I am a shifter like you. We are equals in the forest. I apologize, but I will have to take my human form to untie you.”

Melinoe flushed at that. She would have seen too many naked men in one day. The prince shifted into his human form, but instead of being disgusted, the Princess of the Forest found herself staring. He was a beautiful specimen of a man, all lean muscle. It was not something most people were aware of whenever they saw him in his beautiful tunics and breeches.

Prince Samuel did not even notice that her mouth was open. He simply walked toward her, not ashamed of his nakedness. After all, Melinoe reminded herself, he was used to doing so in front of many ladies. She did not know why that annoyed her; her helplessness in the situation was even more of a shame.

“That stings. You may have to put some herbs on your welts,” the prince said, rubbing at her reddened forearms. She knew that his own hands must also sting.

Melinoe huffed, not wanting the prince to see that she was in a lot of pain. She glanced down at the welts, which enraged her inner vanity.

“Thank you,” she said to the prince, who had quickly shifted back to wolf form. “You seem to be able to control your shifts better, Your Highness.”

“Yes. I can. Sometimes. I do wish that I could shift like the Proteans, with their clothes on.”

“You seem comfortable enough without them,” Melinoe retorted, blushing as she regretted what she said.

“Ah. You’ve noticed that. But I still like the control that Proteans have over their shifts. It does not feel like a curse when you can do it in the way you want. What about you? Don’t you want to be more like them?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. Tonight, I realized that I needed to learn more. But how did you find me?”

“I walk the forests at night. I love the hunt, but that was my first shifter kill.”

“I only hunt animals. I have not killed anyone. Yet. But I know how to clean up after a kill,” murmured Melinoe. Then, she placed her hands over her dead attacker, closed her eyes, and murmured some spells. The dead hound disintegrated into dust.

"That is a helpful skill, Melinoe," said the prince, sounding awed.

"Oh it is, Your Majesty," the shifter-witch assured him.

The princess and the wolf then walked companionably through the forest. Melinoe never thought that the prince she was tasked to kill would save her life.