Page 4 of King of Moon and Claws

Elora knew there was no escaping him, and her screams of agony rang in the dungeon louder and louder every day.

At the end of each bout of torture, the offer was made to join him, and every day she managed to find the will to continue to defy him. Time stood still and lost all meaning. Days and nights ran into each other.

She had no idea how long she had been held captive, and she had no idea if she could hold out much longer. If someone didn’t come to her aid soon, Vasilis would get exactly what he wanted.

THREE

BASTIAN

The desire to shift and run through the woods was all-consuming as Bastian stepped out of his castle into the bright sunlight to stare into the darkness of the woods.

Not a single cloud marred the sky. The sun above was hot, and the fields in the distance shimmered like waves from the heat. The temperature would continue to climb as the day wore on. Now would be the perfect time to run through the woods before it became scorching outside.

“Let’s run,” he said to his inner wolf.

His wolf hummed in response, eager to feel the ground beneath his paws. The responsibility of the throne often came with a heavy price. It left little time for him to enjoy the solitude of being alone in his wolf form as he preferred.

There was always someone or something that required his attention. There was always something chaotic in the local villages that needed immediate rectification.

It was Bastian’s job to maintain peace in the realm. He needed to uphold the laws of the land and administer justice when those laws had been violated. He was hands-on and always there to settle even the smallest disputes.

What he craved most was peace amongst his people. He wanted them to feel safe, happy, and content. He wanted to rule righteously and protect those who lived in his kingdom.

Still, Bastian was no fool. He knew the power and importance of maintaining close relations with dominant political, religious, diplomatic, and military figures of both his land and the surrounding fiefs.

He prided himself on being calm and decisive. Knowing it was important to be a hardworking member just like his denizens kept him in their graces. His people adored him, and he adored them.

Bastian walked to the edge of the trees and stripped, freeing himself of the confines of his clothing. Then he shifted. His bones broke and rearranged themselves. Black fur sprouted where the skin used to be. His teeth elongated and turned into deadly fangs. Claws erupted from his hands. The pain was quick and searing, and a moment later he stood on all fours.

He shook out his shaggy coat, never feeling better than when he was free to run and roam. The woods had always been his favorite place to explore, even though he had investigated every inch of those trees time and time again.

He ran fast and hard, his paws hitting the soft ground and leaving massive imprints in the dirt. It was hard for the sunlight to penetrate the density of the trees, but it was a warm, sunny day, nonetheless. The wind in his fur was cooling despite the heat of the day.

He jumped over a massive fallen tree, ducked under thorny brushes, and stopped to drink at a clear stream before resting in the shadow of a massive oak. He chased a rabbit, not because he was hungry but because it was fun. The thrill of running after something for absolutely no reason simply made him happy.

When the appeal of the chase gave way, Bastian’s wolf picked up a stick and began chewing on it, holding it tightly between his two front paws. He didn’t swallow any of the wood, just created a pile of what would become essentially kindling.

This is the life, Bastian said. Yes.

When that became tiring, Bastian ran back to the stream, leaping into it. The water was clear, cool, and the current was minimal. The bank was rocky but gave way to mossy land, and then to leafy ground covered in pine needles and sticks.

He took off farther than he had in a long time. Following the stream, he headed south for miles. There were no responsibilities here, nothing to anchor him. There was only the freedom to run and expel all the pent-up energy and frustration from weeks of being cooped up.

The forest seemed endless, and his territory extended for miles and miles. He was on the very edge of his kingdom when he heard it.

Help me! Someone, please help…

The cry sounded throughout his mind and he froze in his tracks. The telepathic plea was laced with pain and suffering. He turned in a full circle, confused and wary. He was alone in the woods, of that he was certain.

Where is it coming from? his wolf asked.

I don’t know.

He waited to see if the voice cried out again, but only silence surrounded him. The woods seemed abnormally loud now with the crickets chirping and the leaves crunching underneath his paws.

Please help…

Bastian flicked his wolf ears toward the source of the telepathic cry, using his instincts to direct him. He followed the cries to the very edge of his land. The ground underneath his paws became wetter and wetter as he neared a swamp.

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