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Alrighty, the next chapter of wolf and the rose is ready for submission at last. I hope you enjoy it.

As always, comments are appreciated and requested.

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Continued from "A fated encounter..."

"How is she?" Julianna's father asked, speaking as Aldric shut the door to the bedroom quietly. It had been only a few days since the bite had been delivered, and already all in the castle were buzzing with debate about it. The healer had insisted that everyone leave the room so he could tend to her, but Galen had growled fiercely at him until he relented, letting the Hunter remain in the room. After so long without news, everyone was on edge, waiting for a sign that might tell whether the bite had cursed her with slavery to the dark will of the demons, or whether she would be free, as Galen was.

"They are both asleep, praise be to Auré." Aldric replied. "Galen hasn't left her side in days."

"That is good." The king replied. At Aldric's questioning look, he continued. "That she is sleeping, I mean. Though, I do admire your brother's devotion, staying with her this long."

"You have to understand just how hard it must have been for him to bite her." Aldric began, coming over to the table where the king was sitting. "Think of it from his perspective. He trained for years to fight against the demons and the werewolves that they keep as slaves. To have been bitten was hard enough for him to deal with. Try to imagine what it must have been like for him to do that to her." The king nodded in agreement, looking down at the pile of parchment scrolls and folded letters he had brought to deal with while he waited for news. He seemed about to go back to work when he sighed and shoved the pile across the table, out of immediate reach. Then, he looked up at Aldric once more, an odd look in his eyes, a look that was both troubled and questioning.

"Master Hunter, the day he bit her, you said that he 'shouldn't do this to himself, not again.'" He said and Aldric nodded. "What did you mean?"

"When my brother was about sixteen, fresh from training, he was bitten while fighting alone against demons, near to our home." Aldric explained, "Afterward, when he transformed for the first time, the demons attacked the temple where his childhood sweetheart was a priestess. She was wounded in the fighting, which released the demon's hold on him, but he could do nothing to help her. The wound was mortal. She died in his arms. Afterward, he kept saying that it was his fault that she had been killed, and though we all told him it wasn't, I don't think he ever forgave himself for what happened."

"So, when Julianna was hurt..." The king began.

"He felt that it was happening all over again." Aldric said, completing the monarch's thought for him, nodding in confirmation as he spoke.

"Well, I think I understand him better now at least." The king said. The pair fell silent once more for a moment, then the king continued, his voice contemplative and slightly weakened with some deep seeded emotion. "You know, when they returned out of the blue from the wild, I thought there might be something between them, though I never thought for a moment that it went this deep. It was something in the way they were looking at each other. And, because of that, I...Well, I wouldn't say I hated him, but something close to that. I thought that even though he was a Slayer, he shouldn't have had the audacity to reach so far above his station. I thought that a commoner couldn't possibly be right for my daughter. And then, when I saw how devoted he was to her, I began to have second thoughts. Now, I think that perhaps he is the best thing that could have come into her life, despite all that has happened." Aldric sat in silence, watching the monarch. His eyes were far away and he knew that the monarch needed to say this to someone, someone who could be counted on not to use it against him. The troubled frown on his face deepened and he continued to speak. "My daughter deserves someone like him, who will love her more than his own life. I should have loved her more than I did. Auré knows, I have made mistakes with my daughters. When their mother died, all I could think about was that I had no son, no heir to pass leadership to. I was so focused on getting one that I missed all that I did have. I sent her away to the temple because she would have a better chance of being married to a suitable prince if she was priest trained. I was so blinded by my own desires that I let Talorn worm his way to a position that was nearly disastrous. If it hadn't been for your brother, who knows what might have happened. I can't believe I didn't see it."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, your highness." Aldric admonished. "He fooled us too."

"It isn't that." The king replied, shaking his head and putting a hand to his brow, obviously deeply disturbed. "I meant I can't believe I didn't see what Julianna meant to me. She is special to me, she always was. I knew that deep down, but I ignored the feeling. It took almost losing her for me to remember it. I only hope that she lives through this, if only so I can tell her how sorry I am."

"I think she would appreciate that." Aldric replied. "For myself, I hope she survives for my brother's sake, as well as her own." At the king's questioning look, he continued. "My brother lost his love once before and it nearly destroyed him. He devoted his life to making the demons pay for what they took from him. Because of that, for the last twenty years, he has suffered more pain and torment than any man deserves to experience in his life time. No man should have to go through that twice." For a moment, the pair were silent, both lost in their thoughts, then the king finally rose from his chair, his eyes clouded by sorrow.

"If I do not do something, I shall go mad." He said, "I am going to go to the Shrine of the Sun and pray that she survives."

"I think I will join you." Aldric replied, following the king from the room...

***

I woke suddenly from a sleep I had never intended to take to the dark bedchamber of my love. The room was lit only by a single beeswax candle, its flame flickering bravely in the darkness on the nearby table. The priest of Arnath was nowhere to be found, but the scent of his cleansing incense was omnipresent. Raising my head from the bed, I looked at my love and realized what had awakened me. She was shivering as though she were icy cold, but she had sweated until the covers and sheets were damp, clinging tightly to her as she suffered. Neither of these things was new; no, what had awakened me was my love's voice. Her face was twisted with pain, and she was whimpering, though she was still unconscious.

Concerned, I leaned forward and put a hand on her forehead. Her flesh was so hot it was nearly painful to touch and I looked around for something to cool her with. On a bedside table, the healer had left a bowl of water and a soft cloth, both of which I seized. The bowl bore the runes of an enchantment upon it and, despite the oppressive heat of the room, the water within was as cold as a swift running mountain spring, swollen with snowmelt. Smiling, I dipped the cloth into the water and then lay it on her forehead, dabbing away her sweat.

She shivered when the cloth touched her skin, but the tension in her face eased almost at once, though she still shifted restlessly. Smiling in relief, I soaked the cloth in the bowl and laid it on her head gently, taking her hand in mine as she continued to tremble, the venom taking its toll on her. My heart was still heavy with guilt at what I had been forced to do. To save her life, I had swapped one poison for another, and I was the one who had condemned her to a life of isolation at best, and slavery at worst. Never mind that she had asked me to do it, never mind that I had prevented a worse death than many that could be imagined; it was still my venom that flowed in her veins, that tormented her without pause. She was still in pain, trapped somewhere between the sweet veil of sleep and the torment of waking. Though the cool cloth would soothe her, it was only a temporary measure. What she needed most now was sleep, a thing that she would never receive while the venom burned within her. Though I was tempted to try the sleep spell once again, I knew it would not work, not now. Such minor magicks had little effect on werewolves, even those who had yet to transform. The power of the curse prevented it. Still, I wished that there was something I could do for her. The spirit within me seemed to agree, stirring restlessly within my body, pacing back and forth, urging me to act.

And then, as I took the cloth from her head to soak it once more, a distant memory rose from within my mind. It was one of the few comforting memories I could recall, which was odd, given what it was. It was when I had been sick with the fever, when I was very young. My mother had sat beside me, soothing the heat with cool water and taking my torment away with her voice. She had sung me a song, a lullaby. The words were in an old language, one whose speech was not remembered save by a few elders. The language was rolling, melodious and mysterious. It had some strange power within it, for when one heard it, though one did not understand the words, it calmed even the strongest fears. Smiling, I took a moment to recall the words and the tune, then, laying the cloth on her forehead once more, I began to sing quietly. Though I had never had much skill with song, it was not needed. Immediately, she quieted, her restless movements stilling at my song. Encouraged, I began to sing a little louder, letting the echoes of the song rebound endlessly in the chamber. And, though I was the one doing the singing, the words sank into my spirit, calming doubts and fears. They reminded me of my mother, and the comfort of the house in the wild southern mountains. The wolf spirit within me ceased its endless pacing, laying down to rest, or so it seemed.

And then, as Julianna at last returned to sleep, sinking from her torment into the cool peace of dreams, something a little odd happened. I felt a feeling of deepest calm descend over me. It was not the peaceful sensation of sleep, nor was it the feeling of relief that letting concerns go brought. It was somewhere in between, different from both. I let my worries and my guilt go for the moment, continuing the song, an endless loop of words. Time ceased to have any meaning as I sang, and I felt my mind drifting. I wasn't tired, and I did not think I would have slept even if I had been, but somehow, my mind and body found rest. An endless panoply of thoughts and memories passed by in a parade, as if I were simply watching them go, not thinking them myself. I remained in place, one hand clasping Julianna's, linking us, the other on the coverlet beside her. The endless parade of images seemed to take me through my entire life, all my experiences laid out end to end, one flowing into the next, none connected in series, but all seeming to flow in a pattern. I could see all the things I had done, every detail clear and present like it was happening in that moment, and yet remote as a memory of the distant past, recalled years later. And, scattered among the images from my own past were things I had never seen.

They seemed like to the old myths told to children, forgotten heroes fighting valiantly on battlefields long vanished into the depths of time, some of whom even looked familiar. Fanciful creatures that seemed conjured from the threads of a thousand songs spun by countless bards across an endless span of years, walked in the sunlight upon the earth. And, walking among them, in every image, every tale, were werewolves. And suddenly, I was among them, striding in times long gone by. I heard words spoken in tongues that were no more than memories when the legendary demons were cast from the realm of the gods, innumerable centuries ago. I saw seas long dried to deserts, felt stone beneath my feet long worn to dust by the passage of time. And slowly, I began to understand. These were things held in the memory of the wolf spirit, ancient as the bones of the earth. I watched as the wolves walked the world, free under the sun and moon. I saw how they witnessed the sundering of the Gods. I witnessed how they had been hunted by the ancestors of man, how they had been slain by the hundreds out of fear, the images as clear as if I had experienced them myself, their physical forms left to rot upon the cold earth. And I saw how, in their desperation, they had sought help from the Gods, and how one god alone had offered them aid.

The god offered to make them immortal, offered them a perfect revenge upon the men who had destroyed them. I felt the temptation they had felt, felt the lure of the offer. And I saw how they had accepted the god's aid, and I saw how in doing so, they were snared. For the god called himself Kreol the Ever-changing, God of Trickery, one of the five who had been cast from the domain of the gods. Kreol changed them, altered them, giving them a new life as he had promised. He gave them hosts to contain their spirits, chosen at first from those that followed him. And he gave them venom, a path to an endless existence. For when one was bitten and turned into a werewolf, the wolf spirit endured within both hosts. But Kreol was deceitful. He also bound them to his will, binding their souls to the full moon, giving them great power under its light, but forever making them his slaves. Ever since, the werewolves had been slaves and each unwilling host only bound the chains tighter. Only one willingly accepting the spirit could defy Kreol's will...

Suddenly, I came back to myself out of the trance, the words of the song faltering upon my lips. A hand was upon my shoulder, the arm it was attached to sheathed in light blue cloth. I looked up to find the priest of Arnath standing at my side, a gentle smile on his lips. I blinked, finding my throat as dry as bone once more. The candle on the table had burned itself out, and the room was lit by sunlight streaming in from the open door.

"You should rest Hunter." He said, smiling at me. I nodded, suddenly feeling weary beyond measure, as if I had been walking for days without end. I shook myself once more and wondered how long I had been entranced. I was stiff as if I had been sitting utterly still for many hours. As I stretched, the priest checked Julianna and nodded to himself. "You have a healer's touch Galen. I have never seen someone as ill as she sleep so deeply. Go and refresh yourself, I believe she will be well until you return."

"You will let me know if she gets worse?" I asked, still feeling deeply contemplative and distant.

"I promise." He replied and I nodded, walking out into the main room, somewhat unsteady upon my feet.

Taking a goblet from the table and filling it with water, I strode out onto the balcony, drinking deeply. The cool water soothed my dry throat and I leaned upon the stone rampart, thinking on what I had seen. Though I was weary, I didn't want sleep. I wanted to think. Somehow, I knew it had not been a dream I had seen, nor a fancy of my imagination. Somehow, the ancient song had unleashed the memories of the wolf spirit from within me. Though it seemed to have been spawned within me at the moment I had first transformed, it was also old. For many centuries, scholars had debated where werewolves had come from. Many believed that they were a creation of the demons, another tool by which they sought to control humanity. But that wasn't it. In truth, they were ancient beings, as old as the gods themselves. They had walked the earth before man had arisen, before the war against the demons had begun. They had once been free, until they had been tricked by the demons. In that way, they were akin to mankind. And at last, I understood exactly what the wolf spirit had given me when we had joined in common purpose. It had made me an heir to an ancient power, a power that did not come from the gods or from the demons. That is why it had felt so different to me.

And now, I felt something I had never expected to feel. While I had accepted what I was before now, accepted that I shared my body with a spirit, now, I felt pride. I was proud to be a werewolf, truly and deeply honored that I shared my body with a being so ancient. And I understood as well how important that was. Within my body, a blending of powers was at work. The holy power of the gods of good, passed onto me from my mother, the high priestess, was intertwined with the wild power of the wolf spirits. I was something new, something that had never before walked the world. The iron will of a demon hunter was combined with the savage and wild strength of a werewolf. It was a sobering feeling, something so profound that it filled me with a disconcerting mix of emotions.

And yet, even as I felt all the emotions swirling within me, the images of the ancient battles came back into my mind. They reminded me of something from within my own memory, one of them in particular. It had been only a brief flash of an ancient battle between demons and humans. But one of the humans in the battle had looked very familiar to me, so familiar that I knew I had seen his face somewhere, seen it often enough for it to be engrained in my memory. The warrior had been dark haired, dark eyed and yet had had pale skin. He had been clad in leather armor, stained with swaths of black demon blood. Burned into each piece was a familiar symbol, again something I had seen before. And in his hand was a broadsword of ancient make, made of silver and jade, alight with green fires as it chopped through demons. But there, just above the hilt, the same symbol was engraved as was emblazoned on his armor, but this time, the symbol rested before a sunburst.

And that made me suddenly remember where I had seen it. I had seen it every day of my childhood, before I went off to Slayer training. The sword hung above the mantelpiece of my childhood home, the house where generations beyond count of my family had been raised. And, in the study of my home, where books of ancient lore recorded by members of my family were kept, there was a portrait, a portrait of the patriarch of the Galnikin line, the first member of my family to join the Slayers of Auré. His sons had been the sires of countless Slayers as our family marched down the endless line of years. And yet, the toll on my family line had been high, until only one line remained, carried on by my siblings and our father. And, as I remembered where I had seen the man before, another feeling rose from deep within, quieting all the others and I was surprised at what it was. It was a feeling of familiarity, but it came not from me, but from the wolf spirit that shared my body and mind. As odd as it sounded to me, the spirit had known him...

***

Julianna woke suddenly out of strange dreams to find her bedchamber once more dimly lit, though the door hung open, golden sunlight flowing through it in endless streams so bright it pierced her eyes painfully. She closed her eyes most of the way, looking out through her lashes, allowing her sight to adapt to the light. Something was different. She had awoken several times before from the dreams, often to total darkness. During these times, she had felt as if her body were on fire, and she had barely noticed the details of the world around her. The only thing she had been clearly aware of had been the presence of her love, a constant, steady thing, though she could not see him in the darkness. The last time, she had scented a peculiar odor beneath the scent of incense, and she had instinctually known that it belonged to Galen. The scent, and the touch of his hand on her own had been enough to send her back into the realm of dreams, though sleep had hardly been comfortable. The things she had seen in her sleep were not wholly of dark things, of evil visions, as Galen had described of those he had experienced prior to his first transformation. But neither were they comforting. Even the things that had not been dark were disturbing in their own right. But now, something had changed, something was different.

The chamber had not been altered, the sights and smells the same as every other time she had awoken, even down to Galen sitting beside her bedside, one of his strong furry hands clasping her own. But then, after a moment longer, she realized what had changed. The endless fire of the were-venom had subsided. No longer did her flesh burn; no longer did dark images cloud her mind or fill her sight. In their place was a chilly sensation of anticipation. Her whole body seemed filled with an odd energy, a tingly power that seemed fey and cold, wild as the wind, mysterious as the starlight. And even as she felt that, another power rose as well, a power that was hot, strong and dangerously enticing. It was the feel of demonic magic upon her, and she shuddered inwardly as it caressed her, wrapping itself around her body. But for all its strength, it could not latch on her, could not maintain more than a foothold within her. She knew, without so much as a moment of consideration, that the fateful night of decision had arrived. The sun was setting, and the full moon would be rising soon. Sudden fear welled up within her, fear of what was to come. From what she had witnessed in their travels, from what Galen had said, the transformation could be a horrific affair, an event of pain and torment, as much alike to torture as anything. And yet, a brief flame of hope drove back the fear. She had been bitten by a werewolf free from the demonic control, and perhaps, just perhaps, that would make the difference.

Opening her eyes more fully to let in the sunlight, she looked to her love, and saw concern within his wild countinence. She managed a weak smile, wanting to reassure him, but the words would not come; she seemed to have lost the ability to speak. Galen squeezed her hand gently in reply and she looked slowly around the room to find her father and little sister standing beside the healer who had tended her, and the Master Hunter, the brother of her love. All of them looked grim and tense, as those who stand knowingly awaiting a disaster. And still, the transformation did not come. Then, all at once, as the sun continued its slow journey beneath the horizon, she felt something. It was not a spike of pain, nor the sensation of shifting flesh, but the touch of an unfamiliar presence within her. It was in her mind, in her very soul and it seemed wary of her, as if it were a wild animal that had encountered a human for the first time. Gently it touched her mind, and cautiously, she reciprocated the touch.

But then, the light coming in through the door turned orange and red, and she could feel the sun and the moon changing places in the sky. The moment was near, and she swallowed nervously against a dry throat, clamping down upon her fear. And then, at once, she felt another presence, one frightening close to her. Its touch was unclean, corrupted and foul, but it was strong, so strong. She knew at once she felt the power of the dark god that had cursed the werewolves and it was its power, its will that she had felt earlier, the hot energy that opposed the chill force within her. And yet, even as the dark god bent its will upon her, though it was so powerful that she should have been at its mercy, it did not lay hold of her; it was held at bay by some unseen force, one she had not encountered the like of before. And then, the last sliver of sun slipped beneath the rim of the world, and the transformation was upon her.

A spike of oddly exhilarating pain drove suddenly into her body, and she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut to it, cringing as it coursed within her. At once the two forces surged to life within her, rising to fill every nook and cranny of her body and soul. With the surge of energy came a flood of pain, and she could dimly feel her body beginning to contort, shifting against its will into a new shape. She began to shiver and quake, writhing around as pain wracked her. She was dimly aware of something that sounded like her voice crying out in dreadful pain, but then, as her body was filled to the brim with energy, she forgot the outside world. Something was happening within her mind, something she had been unprepared for. She felt as if two opposing wills were meeting within her, each trying to outmatch the other, scrabbling for purchase within her soul. One was the will of the curse, and the other seemed to be the opposite, though where it was coming from was a mystery. And there she stood, trapped between them, being pulled in both directions at once.

Suddenly, she was aware of a touch upon her. It was not a touch upon her mind, but upon her flesh, and she was once more dimly aware of someone pulling her close, holding her. And then, an image appeared within her mind's eye, banishing every aspect of the outside world. She stood suddenly in darkness, her body glowing with a pale golden radiance. Before her stood two figures, as different as night and day. One was horrible to look upon, its shape reminiscent of Redamarc in his true form, but constantly shifting, a horrific jumble of colors and textures crawling across its body in a terrible, random pattern. Its whole body was wreathed in terrible red light, its very touch unclean. Its hands reached out towards her hungrily, claws dripping with black corruption, for the moment held in check by the invisible barrier before it, but she could almost feel it beginning to give, yielding before its horrid might.

The other was a spirit, formless beyond a general human-like shape, its touch wild and free, unpredictable. But it was unlike any spirit she had ever seen. While still solid and muscular, its strength beyond that of any human, it was also shapely and beautiful, feminine in shape. It was white, but its face was noble. Light that was silver-white seemed to be emanating from it, its touch cool and wild. It did not reach for her, instead, it held out its hand invitingly towards her, looking at her with its piercing eyes. It's gaze was expecting, as if it wanted her to do something. At first, she did not comprehend what it wanted, what was expected of her. And then, as she felt the demon's claws inching towards her, driving back the barrier that held her from it, she at last understood. She knew at once that when the barrier holding back the demon failed, she would have to fight it, or else submit forever to its control. And yet, what strength did she, a young human, have against a god? Despair seized her and she felt as though she were trapped between two courses, neither appealing.

And then, as red light began to leak through the barrier, she understood at last what she needed to do. She could either fight alone, or accept the spirit's help. She knew that if she accepted it, they would be forever and irrevocably intertwined. It would be a part of her forever. Then, the demon reached a hand through the barrier, the hand open and welcoming. At first she hesitated, wavering from the choice, and then, in the moment before the barrier broke fully, she made her decision, her will hardening suddenly, all doubts fading. Raising her hand, she paused for a horrible moment, the demon's will drawing her fingers towards its hand, then resolutely, she placed her hand in that of the spirit. The spirit clasped her hand, a warm smile coming to its face and the demon roared its displeasure, reaching out towards both of them, intending it seemed to seize both for it self. At the touch of the spirit, she felt the cool tingling energy surge with new life within her, temporarily overwhelming the heat of the dark power.

But then, before the demon could touch them, the silver-white glow of the spirit's magic twined with the golden light coming from her own body. When the powers met, a shield suddenly appeared around them, shimmering silver and brilliant gold, holding back the demon from her. Even as her body underwent its own changes, outside this private battle, she felt the spirit changing as well, becoming altogether wolf shaped. Its fur was brilliant white, but its eyes suddenly became brown and familiar. And then, she realized what was happening to it. The wolf spirit's eyes had become her own. And then, the pair stood side by side, facing the demon, their power linked, and the demon's clawed hands, hands that had come so close, were suddenly halted by the shield. But the barrier did not drive it back. The dark god still scrabbled at the shield, seeking a way through it, still seeking mastery. For a moment, she despaired once more, and then, the wolf spirit's mind joined with hers, a tide of unfamiliar images and memories that nearly overwhelmed her. But with the tide, came a certainty of victory. The spirit would not let the demon conquer, not if it had anything to say about it. Raising its head high, it let out a long howl, a sound both mournful and magnificently clear. And wonder of wonders, an answering howl came to her ears.

The answer was not mournful, but uplifting, like the clarion call of a silver war horn winded by some great herald, and very familiar. At its sound, the demon was dismayed, it's horrible face lit with sudden discontent. And suddenly, from outside the private battlefield, a new light shown in, sundering the darkeness. Brilliant gold and silver, it drove back the angry red of the demon's power. She could feel another presence, so near and yet remote, not within her, but beside her, touching her, and it was strong, strong enough to defy a god. She could sense another wolf spirit within the presence, and then, she knew she felt Galen. His spirit was stronger than even she, who knew him so well, had expected, and the demon released its grip upon her shield, fleeing from the combined strength of two humans, and their companion wolves, four spirits working as one. At last, the images faded, and she opened her eyes...

***

I sat beside my love, concern filling me once more. Her family stood near, along with the healer and my brother, all looking grim. They had never experienced the transformation, so they did not know what to expect, and no doubt feared the worst. But I had made them promise that no matter what happened, they must not try and interfere. She would not be in control of her actions during the transformation, and there was no telling what she would do. Only I, with the natural regenerative abilities of a werewolf, could stay near her. I knew also that the trial she faced would be hard, harder than anything she had ever experienced before. The full moon would be rising soon, and soon the transformation would come upon her. Already, her writhing had stilled, and her fever had subsided, even as my own had done, a score of years ago, the calm before the tempest of pain and magic. And already, I could feel my own spiritual companion stirring with anticipation of the moonrise. Then, as the sun began to set, Julianna stirred, her eyes fluttering.

Then, her eyes opened, focusing first upon me, trying to speak, but lacking the ability to do so. I squeezed her hand sympathetically, and she returned the gesture, looking around at her family. As the sun sank beneath the distant edge of the world, Julianna swallowed nervously and I prepared myself to aid her in any way I could. And suddenly, the night of the full moon began, the sun retiring from its daily journey at last. In that moment, I felt not the pain of the previous transformations, but simply the wolf spirit gaining in strength within me. But I did not notice much about what was happening to me. The time had come for the one I loved.

Suddenly, she cringed as if she had been stabbed, gasping from the pain, her eyes squeezing shut. She began to writhe beneath the covers of the bed once more, throwing them off of her. There was a sickening series of cracking, popping sounds and her body contorted, bones shifting position within her. She cried out inarticulately in pain, and I released her hand, rising to my feet. And then, she began to grow, her skin and clothing splitting with the sudden surge in size. Then, she lashed out wildly, her newly formed claws rending the air around her. I heard the sound of Aldric drawing his sword, but I held a hand out in warning to him, shaking my head. Then, I leaned in close to her, putting my arms around her, holding her to me despite her flailing limbs. Her claws suddenly bit deep upon my back and my side, slicing gashes through my body. I gritted my teeth against the pain, closing my eyes to the bitter sting of claws, but I did not let her go.

This pain, small in comparison to what she must have been feeling, was something I willingly bore, as penance for my actions. And suddenly, I felt both halves of my soul come alive, surging into my limbs, energy flooding me. And then, I could see her spiritual battle, see her make the choice, accepting the spirit within her, and I saw their battle with the demon lord. And then, the wolf spirit that lived within me gently took control from me, and I allowed it to come to the fore, knowing it would know better than I what to do. It saw that Julianna and her new spirit alone would not have the strength to drive the demon's influence wholly from the one I loved. And then, as the wolf spirit within her howled its defiance, I felt my own answer it, the magic that lived within me surging into the woman I held and finally I understood. Alone, even the powerful spirits of the wolf and a human had not the strength to break the curse. Auré had aided me in doing so, long ago when I had first transformed, and now, I aided the one I loved. Our power together was enough, and the demon began to retreat.

And then, it was all over. My love stopped her frantic writhing, and lay still, her body relaxing at last. I opened my eyes and leaned back, releasing her, but leaving my hands on her now furred arms, in case she lashed out anymore. As I waited for her to come back from the spiritual battlefield, I felt the werewolf power within me close the wounds she had caused in her madness, the injuries fading as if they never had been, leaving me whole once again. Finally, after a few moments of dead silence within the chamber, Julianna opened her eyes. When the pale moonlight shining into the chamber revealed her eyes, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. Her eyes were not the burning red of one possessed by the curse. Instead, they were liquid brown, as lucid and engaging as ever. Smiling broadly, I embraced her larger body once more, a hug she returned eagerly. While we were embraced, she whispered into my ear, her voice soft enough that only I would hear what was said.

"Thank you, my love." She whispered. "You brought me back again."

"You are very welcome." I replied, pulling back from the hug and kissing her, the motion at last not at all awkward. Then, when we parted, her family stepped forward to show their own relief. Relieved, I leaned back against the wall, letting out a long deep breath, the tension that I had been carrying around with me ever since I had bitten her going with it at last. I had not lost the one I loved after all. Our relationship would not end in her death by my hand. In fact, this was the beginning of something wholly new as well. There was hope now. My people, the ancient wolf spirits and their bearers, had a chance now to be free from the millennia long domination of the demons. Grinning broadly, I stepped forward once more, sitting beside Julianna with an arm around her. Already the king was calling for servants to spread the word. Already, he was planning another festival to celebrate the victory. Today was certainly a day for celebration...