Lady of the Hunt

Animal Instinct

The sickly snapping of bones rang hot in
Remus's ears. Even as Lyall tried to hold him back his body moved towards Beth. Moony was so anxious about his potential mate's well-being that he nearly exposed himself to Constance. If Remus hadn't had so much practice by being amongst other wizards at Hogwarts he might have. The older man refocused his attention on his daughter. An involuntary turn was excruciating to say the least. The scout must have posed more danger than he had realized earlier and her keen instincts had picked up on it.
"Elizabeth, heel!"
Constance grabbed another lasso and tied her torso up like a dog's body leash. He didn't want to hurt his daughter, but he did have to restrain her from her own violent reaction. She would never be able to forgive herself if she hurt anyone in the house in her state of mind.
Beth yelped when he yanked the lasso tighter around her torso and nipped towards his face with her canines.
Lyall watched with them for the next five minutes as her body contorted in all kinds of unnatural angles. He didn't know who to comfort first; his friend or his son. He looked towards Constance when he heard the low whining coming from the heap of white fur on the living room floor. The fire from the hearth reflected gold and orange hues all over the white canvas of het canine body.
Remus stood, rigid. His eyes never leaving her. He hoped that she remembered him for him and didn't just see the werewolf in him. His father moved to stand beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. The dark cottage painted an eerie picture now.
The low growling should have been his first red flag.
Beth was up quicker than Constantine could manage and knocked her father aside with her large form. The Lupins stood perfectly still, waiting for her to make her next move and kept their wands at the ready. The wolf sniffed the air until it pointed her in Remus's direction. Her glowing green-grey eyes fixed themselves onto his form before she released a bone-chilling howl that echoed around the corridors of the once homey cottage. 

"Get on the ground!" Constance hissed at them. Lyall pulled Remus down with him to appease the the great white baring her canines at them. The movement was too fast for her tastes and with one swift movement she knocked Remus down, making him hit his head against the wall. He grunted under her weight, trying to shift his face away from her gaping jaws. He could feel the vibration of her growls purring through his body. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to pin her to the ground to affirm his dominance over her. It was inappropriate, but he felt turned on. He had to bury that feeling deep down and calm down.
"Elizabeth," Constance tried to gather her attention, "don't hurt him. You care about him. Beth, you don't want to hurt him." Her father kept on placating until she stopped growling.

Elizabeth blinked slowly. The red mist over her brain had evaporated and left her feeling faint. She wined and slumped down on top of Remus, whom didn't seem a little shaken but not fazed. Lyall looked at him with an incredulous look before turning to his friend. "Explain."

Constance poured himself and Lyall a strong drink each before rejoining the rest of them in the living room. Beth had passed out on Remus's lap in her exhaustion. Her father took a thick, red cloak from the mantle and covered her with great care. He looked at Remus for a small while, studying him intently. The boy watched her like mates watched over each other. It bothered him a little but he couldn't put his finger onto why. Constance finally sat down next to his friend, handing him the drink.

"I suppose I shall have to alert the rest of the Council now. It's not often humans get exposed to the supernatural, after all."

Constance took a big swig of the brandy. The tinkling of the ice sounded uncomfortable in Remus's ears.

"We are the Praetors. Created by the old goddess to protect innocent lives from the werewolves who seek their destruction."

Father and son shared a look. If they weren't wizards they wouldn't be believing any of this.

"In the beginning of the medieval period, when most still worshipped the old gods, the villages of Germania were viciously attacked by the werewolves. They hunted humans as their prey, devouring whole villages in a single full moon.

"The first of our kind, Aenor the First, encountered the bear goddess when she escaped with her life and the life of her sister's child. Her husband, Oeric, had ensured their safety.

"The goddess was so moved by her prayers of protection, not only for herself but for all of the people, that the goddess bestowed upon her the gift of the wolf.

"Since we are wolves ourselves, we were match for them. But the goddess was more wise than that. It meant that we would not kill them mindlessly in our quest for vengeance, and instead would sympathize. Artio ensured that those innocent of murder would not be executed by her Hunters.

"The best example of this would be Aenor and Oeric. While ensuring his wife's safety he was bitten and afflicted with the curse. She spent nearly two decades thinking that he had died that night.
But they found each other again. Her wolf calmed his so much so, that he never needed to tie himself up in chains again for fear of hurting villagers. They eventually had children of their own, and the praetor gene prevented the children from suffering the same fate as their father.
The Praetor gene is immune against lycanthropy.

"Lycanthropy may be a curse, but preatorism is a gift and a blessing from our goddess.

"It is said that Aenor was trained as a warrior by our deity herself. It is why we also master a multitude of weapons. We were created to protect the humans.

"The red cloak we wear to honor Aenor is a symbol of our servitude to the goddess."