WARNING: This story contains mature content that may not be suitable for some readers.

"Wow. There is nothing out here, is there?"

Kiya's voice was muffled behind the heavy scarf wrapped around her head. The only part of her that was exposed to the frosty elements were her eyes, and they stung from how damn cold it was. It was also dry. Dry as a desert which made her eyes water, and it made the cold so much worse.

"Sure, there is!" Quintin laughed and slapped her back so hard she almost toppled over the side of the low wall. "There are trees, Kiya. Trees as far as the eye can see! I mean, have you ever seen so many trees?"

Kiya glowered up at him and had to bite back the sarcastic remark she was itching to throw at the other soldier. He wanted to rile her up because he was as bored as the rest of them. Because there really was nothing this far north except for the trees and the tiny town they had been deployed to.

When compared to the capital of the Kingdom of Westmora, the settlement known as Silverkeep wasn't even really a town. It was a village. It might even be considered a hamlet. But, seeing as it had a substantial economy for being so far from civilization, they were graced with the designation of town.

Fun facts that she would have, under any other circumstance, been fascinated by. But fun facts didn't keep her warm.

The trees would have kept her warm, or at least sheltered her from the wind. But they were posted at the top of an old watch tower for a reason. It was one of the few places they could see over the trees and react to anything that moved.

"Don't forget the werewolves!" Elise piped up, bright blue eyes glittering with excitement. "We're going to see one tonight! I can feel it in my gut!"

"Better pray to the goddess that we don't, newbie," Red, their squad leader, barked from the other side of the tower. "You know our motto. A successful mission is a mission where we're not needed."

"Is that why they call us the biggest waste of taxpayer gold in the kingdom?" Kiya muttered and rolled her eyes while Quintin snorted another laugh.

"Watch it, Bridges," Red snapped, turning away from the wall just enough to shoot a one-eyed glare towards Kiya.

"Or what?" She shot back without a trace of fear. She'd known Kean Reddings her entire life, and had trained by his side longer than anyone. Underneath his prickly exterior was a soft, ticklish man with a childish love for rune-carving. "Come on, Red. Every story about lycanthrope says they're at their strongest on the first night. So if they were real, we would have seen one by now. We haven't even heard a regular wolf how. The only things out here are us, the villagers, and their yaks. If your definition of a successful mission is us standing around doing nothing, then we are the most successful division in the entire military. And might I remind you that we have been at peace for the last two hundred years?"

There was a shrug and mumble of agreement from Quintin and the other two members of the squad, Rick and Julien, and even Red's best death-glare couldn't quell them. Elise kept looking between all of them, her eyes wide and betraying her heart breaking.

"Well, if that's how you feel," Red's voice was as cold as the air, and he kicked open the trapdoor over the ladder. "Then you won't care spending the rest of the night patrolling in the snow. Take the newbie with you. Maybe she can teach you a thing or two about dedication to the cause."

She knew better than to argue further, but that didn't stop her from rolling her eyes again. Nothing was worse than being stuck with an over-excited newbie up to their eyeballs in research and on the edge of losing their faith. But at least trudging through the snow would keep her warmer than standing still on the top of a tower.

It was surprising that it took Elise a full thirty minutes of walking in silence before talking. That had to be a new record. "Why did you join the corps if you don't believe in monsters?" she finally asked, raising her voice until she was almost shouting over the wind. "Any of the other divisions would kill to have someone as good with a sword as you."

"Because then I would have to actually do something to earn my keep. The Monster Corps is good money, three meals a day, and seven out of ten deployments aren't a miserable hellscape."

"So you're just in this for the money?"

Kiya glanced over her shoulder. Elise had stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes glaring accusingly at Kiya and her gloved hands clenched into fists. With her already short stature and the snow coming up nearly to her knees, she almost looked like a child on the verge of a tantrum. A child carrying a steel longsword and a silver dagger at her side.

"Not just the money. There's also food, travel, and, for the most part, good company."

"You're Red's right hand. How can he trust the rest of his squad to follow if his own lieutenant doesn't?"

"Don't you dare, kid," Kiya snapped. "You don't know a damned thing about what Red and I have been through together. It's not my job to believe in monsters. It's not my job to make anyone else believe in monsters either. It's my job to follow Red's orders and keep everyone else in line. You're right, I am a damned good soldier. And one of the reasons I'm so good is because I'm not afraid of the dark."

"Yet you wear the silver mark of the goddess around your neck. Why carry a symbol of protection when you don't believe-"

A sudden loud crack, followed by an even louder groan cut over Elise's words and nearly silenced the howling of the wind. A second later, there was a booming crash as a tree deeper in the woods fell to the ground. Even the thickest snow wouldn't have softened that sound, and it took a long time for everything to settle back into silence. "Look, newbie," Kiya took a steadying breath, reining her temper back under full control. "It's cold. We only have another hour before the sun comes up. We can talk all you want about my belief systems in the-"

The words disappeared as she turned back to face Elise. A... thing... had risen silently behind the other soldier and stood behind her like a hulking shadow. Ten... no, closer to fifteen feet tall with the shoulder width of two fully grown men side by side. Its body was, for the most part, human in shape. But it was covered in thick, dark fur, and its head was the shape of a canine.

A werewolf.

But that's... impossible...

Before Kiya could do anything, the monstrous creature let out a horrifying roar that better matched the layered screams of the damned. In the blink of an eye, it raised a hand equipped with deadly, six-inch talons, and attacked. Elise was thrown into a tree, and the sound of her head cracking against the trunk finally snapped Kiya out of her stupor.

She just managed to draw her sword in time to block another attack, but her balance was thrown off from her own complacency. The next swipe of its claws cut through the layers of leather as if they were made of butter. She managed to get a foot under her and kicked off in a random direction, trying to give herself space from the creature. It was faster than she was and was on her again immediately. She slashed wildly with her sword, and the blade cut through its chest, spraying bright red blood across the pure white of the snow.

It didn't even seem to notice. Why would it? Steel had no effect on a monster. Only silver.

The werewolf descended on Kiya and flung her through the air like a ragdoll. Then it was on her again, slashing and tearing. Pain rocketed up her body. Her clothes were shredded and drenched in blood. She couldn't catch her breath enough to scream, and even if she could, it wouldn't matter. There was no one out there except for her, the creature, and an unconscious Elise.

Was this how she was going to die?

Out of nowhere, there was another roaring cry, and the werewolf was suddenly ripped off Kiya. Shaking from head to toe, blinking blood and tears from her eyes, she looked around. Another werewolf, this one smaller and lighter in color, was fighting with the first.

There were two of them? Fighting over the hunt.

She had to get herself and Elise the hell out of there. She forced herself to her feet and stumbled through the trees back to Elise. It took longer than she thought, giving her the full picture of how far she'd been thrown. Blood was dripping from Elise's forehead, staining the snow around her. Steam still puffed in front of her mouth and nose, so she was still alive.

Kiya grabbed Elise by the waist and dragged her unconscious body until she was almost in a standing position. Then she dropped to her knees, pulled the woman over her shoulders, and pushed her legs forward in the direction of the tower.

She had no sense of time, and her only sense of direction came from following their earlier tracks. How long was she fighting against two feet of snow? How long ago did she stop hearing the screams of the wolves? How much further did she have to go?

Finally, the cold grey stone of the tower came into view. Using the last of her energy, Kiya sucked in a breath and screamed. There was shouting, and she knew the squad was coming.

The pain was gone. But so was every other feeling. She was numb. Not even shivering from the cold anymore. She lost her grip on Elise just as Quintin reached them and caught her before she hit the ground again. He and the others were talking, but their words were muffled and strange.

"Kiya!" Suddenly Red was in front of her, grabbing her face and forcing her to meet his eyes. It was only then that she realized she'd lost her scarf, and just how hot even his gloved hands felt against her flesh. "What happened?"

Werewolf.

"G-grizzly bear," she spluttered. "Came out of fucking nowhere."

"Never seen a grizzly do this," he snapped, plucking at the bloodied shreds of her coat.

"It was a big-ass grizzly."

Red's eyes narrowed. He locked his grip around her wrist and reached for his hip. "What the fuck are you doing?" Quintin barked, grabbing the hand going for the silver knife. "She said it was a bear, so it was a fucking bear!"

"Standard protocol," was Red's response, his eyes never once leaving Kiya's. "You won't even notice a papercut unless it starts to burn."

She kept her mouth shut and didn't fight. She didn't trust herself to keep her voice steady, and resisting would only further his suspicions. She remained completely still as he drew the blade and ran it across her hand. Blood welled up in the cut and dripped into the snow. But there was no steam. No burning. And it didn't hurt any more than the rest of her. To be sure, Red laid the flat side of the knife against her wrist. Again, nothing happened. "Satisfied?" Kiya asked shakily.

He nodded, but there was a moment where he looked... disappointed?

"Let's get you two back to the inn," he said and turned to the rest of the squad. "Congratulations, people. We made it through the full moon. You have thirty days of rest before we do this all over again."

Kiya managed to wave off the concern of her squad by walking on her own and staying conscious the whole way back to town. The tavern and inn they were renting and using as their temporary headquarters was a welcome sight to them all, and it was a relief to get out of the wind.

Without saying a word to anyone, Kiya went straight for the baths and bolted the door.

Her hands shook as she struggled with the clasps of her cloak and jacket. Blood soaked the shredded remains of the once pristine white of her shirt. As the rush of the night began to fade and her body warmed, she became more and more aware of the sheer pain radiating from the wound. Yet she couldn't bring herself to remove the rest of her clothes to clean it.

A creak of a service door she didn't know was there sent a bolt of panic down her spine, and she whirled around. "August," she gasped, but the rest of the demand for him to leave died on her tongue.

The innkeeper flinched and started turning away, muttering an apology, before his eyes landed on the bloody mess of her clothes. August crossed the room quickly, and at six-and-a-half feet and a shoulder width more comparable to a horse, he pressed a towel against the wound with surprising tenderness.

Kiya knew she should have at least tried to stop him, but his touch was warm and soothing. Looking up into his storm grey eyes, an unfamiliar need to feel his embrace washed through her. "What happened?" he asked in a low, urgent hum. His question was answered when he lifted the towel. With most of the blood wiped away, the truth was revealed. Two gaping punctures and several small scraps in between. The wounds were black, and dark spider veins branched down her chest, arm, and back.

His eyes widened, and all color drained from his face. That was the moment it hit her. She'd been bitten.

She was cursed.