Taming the Wolf Prince (Re-uploading Edited Chapters)

Chapter 1 The Beast Within

A single candle defied the darkness. Dim and feeble, it cast a withered glow upon a grim face. Even so, the tiny flame radiated enough light to shed truth upon her mother's lies. No longer able to hide in the darkness, it was all so clear in her features: taut, hardened with worry, ugly with deceit – it was almost as if she were attending a funeral, not a wedding. 

She said her tears were bitter-sweet. She insisted that she was joyous for her daughter, simply just distraught over her leaving the nest. But every so often when the light flickered across her features, Winter would catch the detachment in her mother's gaze. The worried thoughts clouding her eyes made them almost seem lifeless. It was clear not only from expression, but her prolonged lapses of silence that she didn't trust her daughter's would-be husband.

Like the rest of their village, it seemed she firmly believed she was releasing her daughter into the jaws of a waiting wolf. 

"Winter," the mother called her daughter in a hollow sounding voice. "This will be your wedding dress." 

There was a small shake her mother's arms as she extended a white gown towards her. The movement distracted her from the garment – an exquisite piece adorned with lace. 

"It's beautiful," Winter muttered, although her head was somewhere else. "But how can we afford this, mother?" 

"It's a hand-me-down," she replied flatly, with little emotion in her voice. "This will be the happiest day of your life." 

Something lurked behind the woman's grey eyes, something pained and secretive that made them seem lifeless. 

Winter's lip curled distastefully. After all these years, she still didn't trust Tamer nor her daughter's faith in him. She did her best to ignore the irritation itching in her stomach. This was a happy day –  no one would take this from her. 

Her mother avoided the sharpness of her gaze. Rummaging through her bag, she pulled out a bundle of silk and unfurled it, revealing a crown of white roses inside. 

"And finally," she whispered, raising her hands to place it on Winter's head, "the crown of ice flowers, the roses bloom once a century in the snow. As is traditional for the Maiden." 

Winter looked up, feeling the soft caress of the petals against her forehead. "Thank you, Mother." 

Her mother took a deep breath as if bracing herself for something. The last thing Winter expected was for her to pull out a knife. 

Her mother was acting so absurd and uneasy the sight of a weapon in her hands brought an immediate surge of anxiety within her stomach. Red candlelight – the hue of blood – danced over the silver surface. 

"And finally, the most important accessory of all," her mother whispered. "You must wear this beneath your dress, it will attach to your leg." She slipped the knife into its leather case.

Winter squared her shoulders, feeling her blood boil.

"Mother?" she asked sharply, fingers balling to a fist by her side. No longer could she keep her mouth shut in case of ruining what was supposed to be a happy day. Already there was a stain of distaste souring her mouth. "Is this traditional too? Or is this because you do not trust the nature of my groom?" 

Her mother took a deep breath. "No. It is not traditional." Her features hardened; her skin remained pale and sickly, even in the red glow. "But it is important for me. For my peace of mind, my dear." She clawed at the knife's sheath. "I raised a strong girl but there are some things even the lone wolf cannot fight." 

"He is not a shape-shifter," Winter snapped, articulating each word slowly and clearly for each other. 

Her mother scoffed. The boiling of anger in her stomach frothed like a witch's cauldron – Tamer had taken care of them and hunted for them all his life. She could not believe this was still an issue. More than anything, she just found herself hurt that she seriously thought she was in danger.