Taming The Wolf

Chapter 2

Aoife stirred, her eyelids fluttering open to the soft light of dawn. A warm, furry mass pressed against her back, and for a moment, panic seized her heart. She jerked away, her hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn't there.

The black wolf raised its head, silver eyes meeting hers with an uncanny intelligence. Aoife's breath caught in her throat as memories of the previous day flooded back. Her father using her as exchange for his debt to the Vikings, her frantic run away from the only home she knew, and this creature who had saved her. Protecting her from the Vikings who hunted her.

"You... you stayed," she whispered, her voice hoarse from sleep and fear.

The wolf's ears twitched, and it rose to its feet, shaking out its thick inky black coat. Aoife found herself drawn to its presence, an inexplicable connection tugging at her very core. She reached out a tentative hand, fingers brushing through the coarse fur.

"What are you?" Aoife murmured, more to herself than the wolf.

In response, the creature turned and padded into the forest. It paused, looking back at her with an expectant gaze. Aoife hesitated only a moment before following. As they traveled deeper into the woods, Aoife foraged for berries and edible plants as she followed the wolf, her knowledge of the forest serving her well. She paused by a bush as she collected berries, sitting on a downed tree next to her as the wolf waited for her.

"I don't know what I'm doing. Or, where to go," she told the wolf as she popped a berry in her mouth.

It sat, watching her intently as she continued to eat her breakfast.

"I can't go back home. Not after that."

He turned its head to the side as if asking her 'why', its ears pricked toward her in anticipation.

She sighed, curious if she was mad to be talking to an animal about her woes.

"My father sold me off to the Vikings. Gloated about my red hair and being a maiden to raise the price enough to pay his debts," she whispered as she ran a hand over her curls absentmindedly.

She picked a few more berries and shook her head as she thought back on the events of yesterday.

"I can't go back. I rather die than be given to a man as payment."

She looked up at the wolf to see it had moved closer to her. Its silver eyes looked almost empathetic. She looked down at the berries again to make sure they weren't a hallucinogen. A wild animal doesn't have empathy, at least she didn't think so. When she was done with breakfast, the wolf crouched low, looking from her to its back.

"You want me to... ride you?" Aoife asked, incredulous.

The wolf's tail wagged once, decisively.

Aoife hesitated, her fingers twisting in her tattered dress. "I don't know if I should-"

The wolf nudged her leg insistently.

"Alright, alright," she conceded, carefully climbing onto its broad back.

As soon as she was settled, clinging tightly to handfuls of thick fur, the wolf took off. Trees blurred past as they raced through the forest, wind whipping Aoife's fiery hair behind her like a banner. She pressed her face into the wolf's neck, heart pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

They ran through the day, taking brief breaks in between where she could drink water and eat. The wolf seemed to know all the best places to drink and eat. She wanted to chalk it up to coincidence but had a hard time believing it was with every stop so well planned out. She rode the wolf into the night, the forest giving way to rocky terrain. Aoife caught glimpses of towering mountains in the moonlight. Just when she thought she couldn't hold on any longer, the wolf slowed.

Aoife raised her head, gasping at the sight before her. A massive castle loomed against the starry sky, its stone walls weathered but imposing. The wolf padded to a stop at the base of a winding path leading up to the fortress.

"Where have you brought me?" Aoife breathed, sliding off the wolf's back on shaky legs.

The sole illumination came from the moon overhead. An unsettling silence enveloped the fortress until a glimmer appeared near the entryway on one of the bottom floors. The wolf sauntered up the trail, glancing back at her expectantly. She longed to protest, but reasoned this must be a secure location if the beast could appear so relaxed. The front door opened as a man approached the wolf.

"Where have you been? We have been worried sick when you didn't return last night?"

Just when Aoife was thinking it appeared that this massive wolf was a pet, the man continued, "Sire, we have much to discuss. Let me get your clothes. We don't have a minute to spare."

"Clothes?"

The man looked beyond the wolf to see Aoife, shock written all over his face.

"Who is this?!" he asked the wolf.

Aoife raised an eyebrow, unsure what to think of this conversation.

"The wolf brought me," said Aoife quietly, unsure what else to say.

Aoife observed as the wolf sauntered past the bewildered man, crossing the threshold. The creature turned its head, its luminous silver gaze fixed on her, seemingly expecting her to follow. The perplexed man at the entrance opened the door more, motioning for her to come in as the wolf "asked". As she walked in the stone entryway, the man shut the door behind him looking both directions as if he was trying to hide them.

"Sire, let's get you some clothes —"

"Who is this?!" shrilled a woman's voice from down the hallway.

Aoife turned to see a woman striding to them with sharp green eyes narrowed to slits as she stared at her. Her long brown hair flew behind her as she approached Aoife.

"I said, who is this hag?"

Aoife was taken aback being called such a name. Before she could muster up a response, the wolf had a low grumble coming from its throat.

"Fiadh, I'm sure Bran has an explanation but it's not our place to question," scorned the man.

Aoife realized Bran must be the wolf's name. Fiadh |Fee-ah| looked at the ready to combust.

"She isn't our kind. She isn't welcome here and you know the consequences," she growled at Bran.

Aoife shrieked in terror as the woman not only pounced at her but transformed into a chestnut-colored wolf in an instant. She huddled against the wall as the elongated fangs hurtled toward her, only for a shadowy form bolt in front of her. Bran had her pinned to the ground, his fangs threatening to rip out her throat. Aoife shuffled to the man standing behind her.

"Wh-what?" she stuttered, unable to form a complete sentence.

Bewilderment etched across his features as he inquired, "Oh, you don't know?"

Aoife gaped at him, her body quivering uncontrollably. She became aware that the tremors weren't external, but rather her own limbs betraying her as terror threatened to overwhelm her senses. She let in a few hyperventilated breaths before crumbling to the ground.