Not My Fairytale

Prologue

**A/N: thank you so much to everyone who gives this story a chance! It really means so much!

This is a sequel story to I'm No Cinderella from the point of view of Rose's daughter. If you haven't read that story yet, it contains a lot of the background to the world the story takes place in. It is not required to read this one, but I highly recommend it!

Thanks again!

Xx Ren

Edit Oct 5 2021: As of earlier today, this story has been marked as complete! However be warned, this is still a FIRST DRAFT and is bound to contain some spelling and grammar issues as well as the potential for plot issues as I continue on with the series. I plan to do a thorough edit on the entirety of this story as well as INC in the very near future, but in the meantime enjoy!

Prologue

The man in the black quilted coat quickened his pace through the woods as the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. An owl hooting in the distance and the snow crunching beneath his own worn, old boots were the only sounds disturbing the quiet night. He slipped a hand into the little pouch within his pocket, feeling the cool metal coins against his fingertips. He counted them idly as he walked, swearing all the while that it had been the very last night that he ran his illegal gambling den. The last time he trekked to the little cabin he'd once found abandoned near the river, and risked squandering an entire month's pay on a game of chance. He promised himself he would start spending his evenings with his family, instead of the rowdy group of drunken fools who frequented his establishment.

But, he had made the same promises before. Somehow, he just couldn't seem to keep himself away. The rushing adrenaline of the gamble combined with the thrill of the win, proved to be a heady combination, leading to an addiction so strong he often wondered if he would ever tire of it.

Caught up in his thoughts as he was, he did not at first notice the screams that had begun rising in the distance. But, as more and more voices joined in the cry, his steps faltered and his blood ran cold. Something very bad was happening in the town ahead.

He wondered if maybe their local gang had finally pulled the last straw with the rival thugs in the next town over. He very much hoped so, for if that were the case then his family would likely be safe within the walls of their home. He knew that his brother would protect them as well, worst case, should any thug choose to bust their way inside. His brother had always been the brave one.

He was not proud of the burning desire he felt to turn tail and run in the opposite direction. But, he did feel that it was rather justified, as he was still far from home and the risk of death was quite high if he was caught wandering the streets alone by whomever was attacking. The cabin could serve as a temporary safehouse, like the small cellar hidden beneath a little latch under the living room rug. He prayed his wife would think to hide them all away down there.

Before he could decide on his own course of action, a dark shape broke away from the foliage ahead, approaching him steadily on four legs. His blood turned to ice in his chest as his eyes made contact with those of a large, grey wolf. It was in that moment that two things became abundantly clear to the man:

First, that it was not a rival gang attacking the town ahead.

And second, that tonight truly had been the last night of his gambling den.