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There was a part of Juliana that told her to leave it, that was almost too exhausted to care, that knew it was foolish to take on a werewolf in the dark, to risk her own life when the fate of a kingdom rested on her completing her journey—
But ignoring someone in distress wasn’t very knightly.
A hard cry echoed through the forest.
A scream of pain.
Juliana sprung from the tree, sword drawn, and raced towards the noise. In the dim, milky light of the moon she could make out a hunched shape, lurching backwards through the undergrowth, leaving a shimmering trail of blood behind it.
Another larger, shaggier form towered over him.
It was a great, lumbering shape, taller than Juliana by at least a foot, with elongated arms, a pronounced snout and canines the length of her fingers. Its paws ended in sharp talons, and every inch of it was covered in thick grey fur.
Juliana swallowed. She had never fought a werewolf before.
“No,” came the man’s voice, shredded with fear, “please, don’t—”
Juliana launched herself forward, diving into the space between them, sword outstretched. She sliced across the werewolf’s chest, making it snarl and hiss.
“No,” the man mumbled, “don’t—”
“It’s all right,” Juliana insisted. “I’m here to help.”
“Don’t… don’t hurt her…”
Juliana hesitated. Clearly, the man had lost too much blood. There was no way he was in his right mind, asking her to spare the creature that had just mauled him, not unless—
Unless…
She glanced backwards, catching a momentary glance at his face. “Owen?”
“Juliana?”
The werewolf swiped again, claws narrowly missing Juliana as she darted out of the way, kicking the werewolf in the back when it lunged for Owen.
Not it.Her.
Juliana had never seen Owen’s wife, Saoirse, in her werewolf form. She was willing to bet she had now.
“Don’t—” Owen pleaded again, when Juliana raised her sword towards her.
“I know, I know,” Juliana rushed.
This was new territory for her. She was exceptional at killing things. Incapacitating things that wanted to killher, though? That she was less skilled in. Her safest bet was to try and wound her, damaging her severely enough that she’d give up the chase, but not so bad that she’d be dead.
Not that that was easy to do, either. Werewolf healing aside, the creature could scamper off and detransform before anyone found her, dying of her wounds in the meantime. Juliana didn’t trust herself to be able to find her in the dark, let alone treat her, without putting herself at more risk.
There was Owen to consider, too. The werewolf had taken a good bite out of his leg. He might bleed to death if she didn’t treat him.
Think, think—
The werewolf circled around them, probing, lashing, eyes on the sword.
“Do you have any supplies to hand?” Juliana asked, keeping her back to Owen, blade outstretched.
“Umm, she tore through our food packs…”
“Tohand,”she clarified.
