Her Royal Wolves

Oisean, Commander of the Angels The sound of a new wolf baby cry echoes throughout the snow - ridden forest. Trees shake with the power of the cry signifying one more wolf - born Goddess is Walking in the Mortal world. Blood and the musky scent of the forest penetrates the air around me, reminding me of my home. We have many trees and forests there, but our forests are coated in rich, deep and true power. The snow crunches under my feet as I walk to where the wolf babe is being held in white blankets, clung to by a blood-soaked female wolf. I lean down, the female wolf looking up at me with fear. “Wh-why are you here?” she croaks, holding her crying babe closer. I can’t see the babe’s face, but the cry is strong. The mother’s eyes are as dark as her skin and hair, quite beautiful, but she isn’t meant for this world much longer. “You asked to be one of the chosen, and you lied to your pack about your connection to me. The eighth child should not exist, but I helped you. Your baby survived, thanks to me, and you know what we agreed,” I respond. Dealing with these wolves has been an annoyance. They are all too emotional. “But I just gave birth to her! I wanted time, to nurse her, to tell her I love her!” she cries, trying to crawl away from me, marking the snow with her blood. “P-please! Please don’t take her yet. Please!” I sigh as I take two steps closer and effortlessly rip the babe from her weak arms. She cries and claws at my legs as I spread my wings and float above her. “You stink of death, wolf. Be still as it claims you. Go with the honour you have brought a goddess into this world.” She pauses in her wailing and looks up at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I curse you to a life of misery and death, winged one. I curse you with my life.” I smile. “Your daughter is the goddess witch, not you, and she is only ever going to know I am her father.” “You are not her father,” she sneers. “Maybe not in blood, but such things have never counted for me.” The babe cries in my arms, and I push some of the blankets back, her honey-orange eyes looking up at me with the innocence only a babe could have. A new goddess, one I can keep for myself, train to be my secret witch in the war to come between the gods. They are all here now, in the mortal realm, and my task has just begun. As the babe settles, I look down at the female wolf, who is silent in a pool of her own blood. Death has claimed the wolf, and I claim Serena, the babe, my witch goddess. My goddess of illusion. Together, we will rule this mortal realm.