Page 136 of The Ballad of the Vampire Prince

“Can you make this?” I ask flatly, handing him a sheepskin scroll.

Red studies the print silently, curiosity flickering in his expression. I have no coins or treasure to offer him. I can simply threaten the guy, but perfection never rises from coercion. I need the bastard at his best. My sweet Nel deserves it.

He finally glances over at me, searching for a possibility I may be fucking with him.

“As a trade, I will tell you the nature of your hunter in the woods,” I add before he can refuse my offer.

“You can do that?” he asks, the surprise written across his face.

I nod to the stupid question.

I remove my coat and the pieces of clothing that might not be able to survive my partial shift.

Blood rushes to Red’s face and he clears his throat. “Look—look man, you’re Rhianelle’s husband… and frankly I’m not interested in starting any affair or any romantic fling at the moment.”

This dumbass…I remind myself repeatedly not to gut him.

Deadly claws erupt to replace my hands and my senses heighten. Bile rises to my throat and I cringe from the acrid taste of it. A cracking sound fills the air as my head is thrown back when my body contorts and my skin rips open.

I focus on the two sapphire eyes peering at us from behind the leaves. The animal is nothing but a dark void at first, but as my shift progresses, I finally see the spirit that lies beneath the charcoal fur.

Interesting…

The wolf is aware of my prying, and its lips part slightly, exposing oversized canines.

I whip my head towards Red and for the first time since I met him, true fear crosses the knight’s features. His hand rests on the pommel of his sword out of pure instinct. I take pity on his hardworking heart and decide he should not die before completing his task.

“What the fuck was that?” he bursts and exhales.

“I needed to shift for the sight,” I mutter, gradually switching back into my mortal disguise.

“For the love of Kvatosh, can you warn me before you do it?” He cringes backward, his body shivering with disgust. “That is the most hideous fucking thing I have ever seen. I’m going to have nightmares for weeks—no, decades.”

Red drops to his knees to the ground and starts chanting an elven prayer. He shakes his head and sighs dramatically the moment he is done. “Fuck, that was ugly.”

He said that already. This overreaction is starting to piss me off.

“Don’t ever show that to my queen,” he mutters before rising to full height. “I’m starting to get used to your presence. It’d be a damn shame if she were to send you away.”

A growl rolls from my throat at the ungrateful bastard and his unbidden advice. But I make a mental note never to shift into this form in front of Rhianelle.

Go now,I tell the beast sharply to fully revert back.

I never learn this one’s name because he doesn’t speak. The others nicknamed him as Wendy, a mockery of some of the names the humans had given him. They all turn quiet in his presence, most are scared, some just don’t give a damn, but all of them wholly agree that Wendy is a malevolent beast of pure chaos and destruction. Unlike Coinneach, or Cyntefin, this one doesn’t possess a single perk to charm Rhianelle. He is a monster in every sense of the word, one of the Fallen from Hel, the Harvester of Souls.

We can’t frighten our little fawn,I reason with him.

Wendy grumbles as he retreats into the dark recesses of my soul, but he understands.

“Your stalker is an elf,” I tell the knight flatly. “I don’t know why he is bound in that lupine shape.”

Red tilts his head to the side with a mild daze. His eyes immediately hunt for the creature in the woods.

The wolf bares his teeth at him, his fur bristling.

“He’s an elf, you say?” he asks, smirking like a cat. The surprise on his expression has now been completely replaced by a widening grin. There’s a maniacal look on his face that makes me actually pity the wolf.

The knight makes a soft calling sound, the same way Rhianelle would summon the stray cats around the courtyard. “Come here, boy.”