E R I K

I walked through the frozen forest in the direction of our camp. The sun was weak, and snow had started to fall again. I hated the cold. It reminded me of the countless months spent on the mountainside, holding our defensive line against the Mad Prince's army. Seeing that boy's frozen body being pulled from the river reminded me of the thousands of fallen soldiers I had seen frozen on the mountainside. Their nameless faces, along with the memories of my father and brothers, haunted me.

Dear God, if they only knew of the predicament I was in now. Mated to a fox. For years, I had worried about the prospect of a bride. As a royal prince, I'd always imagined being coupled to a highborn lady or Princess. As a long-time soldier with none of the manners or elegance of the aristocracy, I'd found the thought of a high-maintenance wife daunting. However, not in my wildest dreams did I'd ever imagine being tied to a fox instead of a Princess.

I angrily kicked at a lump of snow and cursed the little Fox. My plan to drive her out of the village had so far failed. I should have let Byron and Ranni have her, but I couldn't. Despite everything, I couldn't let them harm her. I would have to find another way to protect her.

I neared the edge of the camp and saw Byron sitting alongside Ranni. They were both staring down miserably into our supply bag.

"Judging by that look on your face, I'm guessing we don't have much for dinner," I said, trying to sound upbeat.

Ranni lifted her head sadly and replied, "Not unless you have an appetite for boiled rabbit head."

I shuddered at the thought.

"Look, there has been an incident in the village. A young man slipped into the river last night and drowned. The villagers pulled his frozen corpse out the river this morning. They are angry and are looking for someone to blame. I think we should leave this place and return when things have settled in the summer," I said rationally.

"Why would they blame us? We had nothing to do with the boy's death," Ranni asked pulling the dead rabbit's head out of plastic bag.

"They're village folk," I shrugged. "They are simple people who fear outsiders. They will blame us simply for being strangers."

"Come on, Erik. This village has an Internet Cafe and is on a bus route to Bristol. Fortunately for us, the people here do not live in the Middle Ages," Ranni countered.

I opened my mouth to argue but choked on my words. I couldn't find the proper excuse to convince the others to leave.

However, I caught the scent of something in the wind. A whiff of burning sandalwood and sage. I lifted my head and saw a sight that made me this that the universe had answered my prayers.

There was a group of elderly men from the village walking towards us through the trees. But this was no ordinary group of elderly ramblers on a woodland hike. Instead, these men were dressed in various coloured flowing robes, carrying sticks of burning incense, and adorned with crude wooden symbols around their necks.

"What the fresh blackberry jam is happening here," Byron said as he spotted the men.

There was one man who stood out from the others in the group. He wasn't a day younger than ninety and had a long white beard. But, unlike his colourful companions, he wore a long, flowing white robe. On the jacket pocket of the white robe was the words' Captain of the Woodland Guards' embroiled in gold.

The Captain spotted us and yelled, "Arm yourselves, lads!"

Byron panicked and dove for his sword. He thought we were under attack from this bunch of larping pensions.

"Do not arm yourself, Byron. I'll handle it," I said.

Byron hesitated and positioned himself close to his sword, hidden under a sleeping bag.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," I called out to them.

The Captain raised his hand, and the men stopped. The old men eyed us suspiciously, and one gasped out loud and pointed excitedly at Ranni and the rabbit head in her hand.

"Look at that, Captain! Bold as brass! Committing animal sacrifice to the dark lord in the middle of our woods," The elderly man bellowed.

The Captain inhaled the air in front of us and recoiled in revulsion. "Can you smell the eggy sulphur of the Devil's taint? There is no doubt that we have ourselves a trio of Devil Worshippers!"

The men muttered amongst themselves in agreement.

"Gentlemen, that smell is not of the Devil. I regret to inform you that you are in the area where we do our business," I explained.

"What business? Devil business? Black magic business?" The Captain demanded.

"Uh, no. Toilet business," I said.

There was murmuring of disgust from the old men as they hiked up the hem of their robes so they did not touch the ground.

"Animals!" The Captain spat, lifting a boot to ensure he had not stepped in something nasty.

"Gentlemen, how can I help you on this fine winter's morning," I asked.

"We've had reports of Devil Worshipper's loitering in these woods, and we suspect that you and your companions are in league with the Devil," The Captain announced.

I remembered the conversation that I'd had earlier with Morgan. I remembered how she had accused me of being a Devil Worshipper because I had been wandering through the woods last night.

Had she sent these men to scare me away? Did she really believe this group of toothless geriatrics would be enough to frighten me away?

"Did Morgan send you?" I asked quietly.

The Captain narrowed his eyes at me and said, "Someone sent me, but I'm not saying who."

Of course, it was Morgan. She had summoned these half-wits to see me off.

The Captain took a step forwards and continued, "I have been tasked with escorting you and your friends out of the village woods. You are to leave this place and never come back. You are especially never to try and talk the women of the village again."

I should have been overjoyed. This man was giving me the excuse I needed to leave the village. I should have grabbed it with both hands and left. But when the old fool ordered me to never speak to women of the village, ergo Morgan, something ugly that I never knew existed inside me raised its head and bore its teeth.

My eyes darkened, and I felt the fire rising in my veins. I let out a low growl that was more dragon than man.

"Do you hear the beast speaking from within him?" The Captain asked. "He is possessed!"

Byron came to my side and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You need to calm down. You're going to lose control," he whispered.

I ignored him and took a step toward the Captain. "Do you think that you can stop me from claiming what is rightfully mine?" I asked.

The Captain reached into his robe and pulled out a small leather pouch. He turned back towards his men and said, "My protective salt will shield us from their dark magic. Lads, arm yourself with holy water."

The 'lads' glanced nervously at one another while the Captain started waving his arms about in the air as if he were practising some ancient martial arts.

"No devil-worshipper is safe from Captain Glen of Thorsbury Glade," The Captain announced, spreading his legs and adopting a power stance. "Your devil-worshipping days in this wood are over."

"I think there has been a misunderstanding," Byron said, trying to pull me back. "We are not devil-worshippers. We are, in fact, like you."

"Honeyed lies from the devil's lips!" The Captain said. "You've come to take our women! Get back! Clear-off!"

He knelt on the ground, picked up a stone covered in ice, and threw it at me. Byron jumped before me, and the rock bounced off his chest.

The other men knelt on the ground and started to pick up and throw rocks, a frozen lump of ice and sticks at us.

They were chasing us out of the woods. They were chasing me away from her. A conflict between my head and my heart ensued. My head demanded I leave, but the heart demanded I stay and fight for my mate.

Byron lowered his voice and said, "Okay. You're right. These villagers are idiots. We should cut our losses and get the hell out of here."

Ranni was already scrambling behind us, gathering our essentials in plastic bags. She must have changed her mind too.

I should give the order to retreat. I should tell Byron that he is right.

I opened my mouth to agree, but that ugly thing inside me took over.

Panic and rage took over. I pushed Byron aside and ignored the debris reigning down on me. I rolled my shoulders and unfurled my golden dragon wings.

The men dropped their ice and rocks. Their eyes were fixated on my wings.

"Who are you?" The Captain asked weakly.

"I am your King," I replied.