The night was enchanting. It was one of those evenings you swore held a glimpse of the supernatural within the boughs of the trees and the gentle sigh of whistling wind with a whisper of song that was distinctly... other.

Something that would begin to bring about a change for a girl and a wolf.

But it was of no mind to me. I was going to my grandmother's. And that was final.

"Aria—"

"Momma, no." I shook my head, my chin-length, dirty blonde hair lashing against my cheeks. "I can't stay here when she might need me," I said, my voice breaking.

Momma gathered me into a hug, and I resisted at first, but then a sob caught in my chest and I relaxed into my mother and her warm embrace that felt like coming home.

There was always something about her hugs that just made you feel... loved.

"Don't worry, Aria. Pa is checking on her, he'll be sure to keep her safe," Momma whispered, her voice a gentle cadence that soothed my tumultuous emotions.

"But what if he gets lost? What if the wolves find him? Find Grandma?" I whimpered when a wolf howled, shivering in my mother's arms.

"You know your Pa. He's stubborn as a donkey and tougher than an ox."

Despite myself, my lips pulled into a smile.

The piercing cry of a toddler broke through the still air in the little cottage I called home, and we both jumped. I gave a small, watery chuckle and could feel her chest rumbling with a laugh.

Momma pulled back, placing her hands on my shoulders. "Trust The King and stay here, alright?"

I hesitated, then crossed my fingers behind my back and nodded.

Momma's eyes, sharp as ever, looked over my shoulder. She took my hands from behind my back.

Her brows lowered and her eyes narrowed. "Aria..."

I gave her an innocent smile, trying to pull off what I'd done.

Then Jack squealed with his sister, and a few cries of both pain and anger came before a loud thump echoed down the steps.

All was silent for a moment suspended in time, and then a scream that was so loud it pierced my eardrums came down the steps from my brother and sister's room.

Momma gave me a look and darted up the stairs with a spryness that was unlike most housewives I'd seen. Most were portly and soft about the middle, unless they were workers.

But then, we live in a cottage in the middle of the woods. One would have to be spry and fit to make it out here.

And Momma was everything I someday wanted to be, a slim figure with toned muscle. But my arms were scrawny and my middle... well, let's just say I had a lot of growing to do.

I looked over at the door, then sat at the table with a stain of water from where Momma had tried to clean the soup and lard Jack had spilled from dinner.

The howls of the wolves grew closer, and I fidgeted in my seat, trying not to race out the door and into the woods. But Momma was right, much as my young mind hated to admit it. I had two daggers Pa had begun training me with, but I wasn't be much better than my grandma in a fight with wolves.

The only thing I could do would be as wolf food while Grandma ran.

I huffed out a breath. Fat load of good that would do. I was such a tiny morsel I wouldn't slow them for long.

Howls ebbed and flowed, a haunting song that had me trembling, but at the same time... a sense of awe grew in my heart. I always respected wolves, the majestic, loyal creatures with jaws of steel and teeth that could pierce bone.

And then there were The Wolves. The ones of legend. The rulers of the forest.

I had tried to carve a large wolf with big teeth into the underside of Momma's table. That was when I learned I had zero talent for woodwork. And I learned that a hickory that's small hurts a lot worse than a big hickory. When Momma sent me for a hickory the next time, I picked something bigger that wouldn't sting like a thousand bees.

I rubbed my finger against the indention on the underside of the table, a little smile trying to pull at my lips.

But my head snapped up a few moments later, when I realized... everything was still.

Silence.

Even the twins stopped crying, as if they, too, felt... something, in the air.

A growl came from right outside the door. A snarling bark that made me jump in my seat and seemed to shake the ground beneath my feet.

I quivered, but eased my way to the front door. Momma was still upstairs with the twins, and I wasn't sure what I would do if a wolf knocked down the door, but I couldn't just sit here and do nothing.

I wouldn't go down without a fight.

I drew one of my daggers that felt as big as a sword in my small fingers, and it shook in my trembling grip.

But I remembered what Pa had said and adjusted my grasp so I wasn't holding it in a white-knuckled grip but something a little more loose and pliable.

The growl went silent, and I peeked through a little hole cut in the wood that Pa had drilled just for me.

I didn't see anything. Just the full moon above and shimmering stars making the top of the trees glimmer silver and the wind brushed through the grasses like fingers weaving through hair. Our barn stood in the distance, pastures between us and the large, square shadow.

The stars shone above, but even squinting, I couldn't make out the shadows beneath the trees. It seemed like something was there. Something was moving—

Something large hit the door.

I bounced back, screaming, as something clawed and scratched at the wood. Large snuffling sounds like a bear filtered through the cracks. Growls filled my ears and the door splintered, but held.

I didn't know when I had curled into a ball on the floor. I didn't know when I had covered my ears and flinched with each resounding thump against the door and the consecutive splintering as the door began to give way.

I shut my eyes tightly, as if I could remove myself from the situation. If only I didn't see it, it wouldn't be real, right?

One last, resounding thump shook the entire house. Then silence.

But I felt a presence.

I trembled as I felt something loom above me, something bigger than a normal wolf.

I whimpered. Something dripped on my face.

Once, I'd told my father I would kill anything that tried to hurt my family.

But right then, it was as if all my courage had sunk into the depths of the sea.

But I wanted to look my death in the eye.

So I opened my eyes a slit, and what I saw—I wished I had never opened my eyes. I wish I had allowed death to take me without seeing the terror above me.

I froze as a wolf with two saber teeth as long as my arms curled from the lips that were pulled back to reveal fangs as long as my hand. He was a black monster, his eyes glowing red and bright in the night, taking me in, sizing me up.

He was as big as a horse.

He leaned down, his eyes never leaving mine, as he sniffed at my neck.

Slowly, torturously, he opened his jaws and began to put those teeth around my neck.

I thought I heard Momma scream my name. I thought I heard the twins crying, yelling for their 'issie.

I thought of the twins. I thought of Momma and what this wolf would do if he got to them.

And although I had no courage, I still gripped a knife in my hand that was positioned just below this wolf's jaw.

I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed my knife up with all my might.

I felt the knife connect with something, and warmth dribbled over my hand. The wolf yelped, pulling back and taking me and my stranglehold on the knife with him.

My hand, bloodied and slick with an oily-like substance, slipped from the knife as he ran out the door.

Everything felt hazy, and my breath came in short gasps as I replayed over and over again what had happened. The predatory eyes that glowed red and watched me with greed.

It took a long time before I opened my eyes.

But when I did, the wolf was gone.

Pa stood at the door, looking at me with wide eyes, his mouth parted in surprise.

"Aria, did you—?"

Then everything went hazy and I felt myself falling into the black hole of unconsciousness.