"Made this hard on yourself, did you?" Commander Vex says, hands behind his back and a cocky grin on his lips, pulling at the J-shaped scar on his cheek.

Of course, he’s one of the few surrounding me who appear bright and cheery, as if not just awakened by the bell.

The retreat of Mother and the boys is music to my ears, their steps crunching against dirt and their legs brushing against undergrowth until they are out of range of my hearing. Good.

A grin crosses my lips to match his, my body thrumming with the adrenaline of a coming fight. They don't know how I've yearned for this. Come what may, they will know pain before this night is done. They will pay their blood debt to me this night.

"You do not know the animal you've let loose." My low voice reverberates through the clearing, the sound scaring an owl from its roost.

The beat of its wings retreats as I watch the men with a keen gaze, feeling the wolf flash into my eyes.

"Oh, I think I do," he says, words coated with satisfaction and his body exuding the cold aura of a man who knows he’s won.

It makes my blood boil.

He snaps his finger. Two beasts materialize from the blackness behind him, and my heart skips a beat.

The black and silver streaked animals are... odd. Their gait is stilted, as if they are a golem instead of a living being. The way they move is at a disconnect, their paws slightly out of sink and their tails straight behind them and not being used for balance nor communication. Their blank eyes are hazy as they peer through unblinking lids.

They remind me of the living dead. I have only seen this once before, in a fairy who had been forced to bind himself to a mage. A hideous practice that strips the being of their own free will.

I sniff, the odor of sweet and tangy Shifter mixed with the oily sliminess of darkness, which I would guess to be the forced bond.

But how is that possible? Fairies, sure. I've even heard of some other magical creatures—dragons, for example—forced into such bonds. But not Shifters.

"Like my pets?" The commander grins, showing the glint of a golden tooth. "These two were a mated pair, but we found them before they had pups, otherwise a whole brood of such monsters would've been slain. I'm sure you agree this was the more humane thing to do, preventing them from seeing their pups slaughtered... that is a Gift."

Rage boils beneath my skin, making it hard to hold The Thing inside. But I can't risk harming my family. Plus, killing all these people would be disastrous for my promise not to kill. Even if it would be oh so much easier.

"Find the humans, my pets. Bring them back. Unharmed, if you please. I will see them suffer in my presence," Commander Vex says to the wolves.

A snarl emerges from me as my wolven lips bare to reveal pointed canines and the tips of my ears tingle as they grow into pointed tufts. Claws extend from my fingers as grey fur races up my arms. My back bends slightly as my muscles expand to take up more space.

I growl, and even the Commander takes a step back at the vehemence in the expression of my rage. The wolves leap in separate directions, unaffected by the fear I see in the humans.

I launch myself at the closest one, latching my arms around its torso and flinging it after its mate, ignoring the snapping fangs that catch and slice open my arm.

The wolf hits home and they both go down in a tangle of legs and mismatched grey and black fur. The unnatural silence has my skin crawling. They should yelp in pain or growl a challenge. They should dip their tails and bare their necks for an alpha. Their instincts are as void as their fear. They don't even glance at me, intent only upon the woods where my family fled to.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Their orders.

Heck no.

I get between them and the woods.

But before I can do much else, a sharp pain digs into my shoulder. I roar, turning burning eyes on the archer quivering beside the Commander, who still has that smile on his lips as if he's vastly enjoying this. I want to rip it from his face.

"Easy now, big boy. That's an impressive form you've got there. I wonder if the Emperor would see fit to give me another bond should I bring in such a prize." I snarl and snap my elongated muzzle in his direction, flecks of slobber leaking from between my teeth. His grin only grows. "You will soon go nighty night. Don't worry, I'll take good care of your friends." The promise in his voice washes cold through my veins.

I look down and rip the arrow shaft from my flesh. It comes out easily enough, the end not even barbed. It's just a shaft of wood with a point that shattered on impact.

But then I smell it. The bitter, poisonous tang of Wolfsbane. I throw the shaft away; but not quickly enough. Numbness already coats my shoulder and makes that arm hard to lift.

I stumble, and the wolves take the chance to leap around me. I smash one into a tree, hearing a pop that concerns me, until I realize I'm the one who hit the ground and crunched a keg of mead.

The men groan in unison.

"You'll pay for that one, I'd wager," the commander says in his smooth voice that's tinged with a smirk.

I rise on shaking legs, barely dodging another shaft with a well-timed stumble. The wolf is still down where I rammed him into the tree, shallow breaths marking his life. I smell of mead and blood, the two mixing down my torso to make my fur slick and sticky. Grand.

This is not what I signed up for.

I never signed up for a voice in my head, I respond, still trying to shake my brain into submission instead of the fog making me near sighted and my equilibrium hazy.

Your loss.

I use a form of combat my body insists on... not being strong nor coherent enough for much else.

I stagger into the men like a drunken bear, using my bulk as a battering ram, sending them rolling into moaning piles of tangled limbs. The drug racing through my system with every beat of my heart makes my drunken stumbles... exactly that. Not filled with finesse, but highly effective because of my bulk and the unpredictable stumbles and jolts of my movements. I may have to make use of this—technique—more often.

"Don't maim it! Take it alive!" the commander yells with the most anger I've ever heard in his voice, even as I smash into another set of jingoist trying to stab me with pointy objects that don't mean all that much unless they smell of sweet silver. Those I avoid.

The Thing beats against its cage, wanting to erupt, but there is no way I'm letting that monster out, not when my family could be within blast radius. Speaking of, there is still the matter of the one wolf. I turn and trot in a stagger to the trees, which actually helps me avoid the many shafts aiming to put me down.

Can you not go any faster, idiot?

I'm trying. You couldn't do any better with wolfsbane running through your blood.

Of course I'd do better!

Then try.

I can't. You're the one in the driver's seat.

Then. Shut. UP!

Another shaft pierces my back. I grunt. These humans came prepared. I wonder who ratted me out back in Whitecastle. They will pay... someday.

I stumble to my knees, a sound emerging from the woods that breaks my very will.

The broken and gasping cries of a boy.

The sound makes my ears twitch, and I would know that voice anywhere.

“Barry,” I whisper through numb lips, the word coming out a low, grumbling moan through vocal chords not quite meant for human words.

"That's quite enough. Surrender or I'll have my pet rip out the throat of one boy. I have no need for both. The mother and one boy will do," Commander Vex says, coming up behind me with his slightly limping gait. He motions his men to surround the woman and two boys emerging from the wood with a wolf snapping at their heels.

Ma carries Barry in her arms, his shaking and hiccuping making my chest hurt worse than any torture ever inflicted on my body.

I bow my head and will the change to come.

Jed watches me with nothing but calm acceptance in his gaze, eyes so wise like his father. Frida has tears racing down her face, but the fear in her eyes isn't aimed at the wolf behind her, nor the jingoist surrounding her. No, her terror is of me. I've shown no one I know this form on purpose.

Yet, here I am, showing the ones I care for most of all. I run a shaking, claw-tipped hand over my muzzle. I know I'm terrifying... a half-beast, half-human creature caught with the muzzle and face of a wolf while remaining upright on bent legs shaped between that of an animal and a man. I didn't mean for them to see me like this. An abomination. A freak. A monster.

I've known no Shifter to be what I am.

I shudder back into my pure human form, meeting Mother’s eyes and mouthing, "I'm sorry," before something collides with the back of my neck and everything goes black.