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Alrighty, the next chapter of the wolf and the rose is finally done. Originally, this was supposed to be submitted with the last one, but my schedule didn't allow it to be finished until now.

As always, comments are appreciated.

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Continued from "Duality of Spirit..."

The moment the last word left the prince's lips, he stepped back, the advancing mercenaries shielding him from my sight. I narrowed my eyes, quickly sizing up the foes that faced me. Of the two dozen that stood in my line of sight, only two held weapons made of silver, one a long spear with an odd, curving blade atop it, the other a falchion. The latter weapon was more of a worry to me, since I had never fought against someone wielding such a weapon, though I had seen them before. But, before I could deal with either of them, I had a more pressing issue to take care of. Two twin, dark skinned mercenaries, identical down to their armor and weapons, rushed me in unison, breaking ranks with the others and screaming war cries in a guttural language I had never heard before. Taking a quick step forward, I leapt into the air, aiming at the left hand mercenary. Obviously well experienced, he raised his weapon, a worn steel saber and slashed at me with it, obviously expecting to slice right through me. But, he failed to take into account the quick reflexes of a werewolf. With a single deft movement of my sword, I deflected his strike and landed full force on his chest with both feet.

In my fully transformed state, I weighed at least twice as much as a normal human, and I moved many times faster. A rippling series of pops sounded within his body as I hit him like a battering ram. The mercenary flew backward, landing in a spineless heap as if he had been struck by a hammer wielded by a giant. Rolling back onto my shoulders from where I had landed, I pushed off the ground hard, leaping to my feet and facing the remaining twin. The warrior screamed in rage at the death of his brother, swiping at me swiftly with his own saber, three cuts at hip, chest and head level. I ducked the highest strike, catching the first two strikes with my sword, then stabbed up within his guard with the dagger. The warrior's wild war cry faded into a gurgling hiss as I drew the dagger from him, turning to face the remaining soldiers while he fell. As I removed the dagger, its glittering length dimmed by the red blood that covered it, a familiar scent filled the air. The coppery scent of human blood did something to the wolf spirit within me, something I had not noticed before. I could feel its excitement, feel a heated, savage instinct rising within it. My heart began to speed up, hammering a fierce rhythm in my chest like a war drum in answer. The mercenaries' movements slowed down, making it seem like they were swimming through syrup. A warm, exciting tingle rose within my body, flooding my blood with strange, wild energy.

Grinning widely at the new feeling that was filling me, my body sprinted forward seemingly on its own accord. When I reached the advancing mercenaries, it was like a thunderclap passing through a field of tall grass. I lashed out with my sword in one direction, my dagger in the other, the blades biting deep. Sprays of red blood leapt into the air with the sound of rending steel and flesh. Six mercenaries stood in front of me, five more behind me, and more were running to meet me, but I felt no fear. They would not stop me. One of the mercenaries in the middle of the pack stabbed at me with a short spear, and the whistle of a steel blade came from behind me as another slashed at me with a sword. Bending my body backward nearly double, I let the spear point pass harmlessly by over head, my own sword flashing brightly through the air beneath it. The sword blow that had come from behind missed by a wide margin as my body continued to bend. Two more mercenaries dressed in black leather armor to my front advanced, both armed with katars; punching daggers that had been blackened by poisons. But they were painfully slow, and I stabbed one in the chest with my sword, then ripped it free, carrying the strike over into the second man.

The mercenary that had tried to hit me with the sword from behind was now off balance from his strike and I encircled his neck with one arm, pulling his body around to the front. A crossbowman that had been standing back from the advancing line fired, but the unlucky merc was now in the path of the bolt. Lashing out with my sword in the other direction, I took a second man's hand off at the wrist. When the bolt struck the mercenary I was holding, I shoved him forward with enough force that his feet left the ground for a few moments. He and the three mercenaries he plowed into went down into a tangled heap of limbs. Another war cry echoed in the clearing and I whirled to face the spearman with the silver weapon.

He was charging like a knight in a tourney might, the spear point aimed for my heart. I didn't bother waiting for him to come within range. Cocking my arm back, I hurled the dagger forward, hitting him full force in the chest, turning to face another threat before the dagger even hit its target. The crossbowman was hurriedly reloading his weapon, so I knew I could ignore him for a few seconds. A dozen mercenaries still stood, not counting the crossbowman, and I engaged two of them at once, blocking both of their strikes with ease. They were good swordsmen, obviously well trained, but they were very slow, so slow they looked like they were merely illustrating the combat techniques, rather than fighting with them. I realized that if I had wanted to, I could have toyed with them, dueling with them for hours. But, with every strike that found flesh, every bloody slice, the instinct within me grew stronger, more wild, clamoring for release.

And then, without giving it another thought, I abandoned myself to it. In an instant, one swordsman was dead, my sword lodged deep into his chest. The other man's sword came around to strike my unprotected back, but I abandoned my blade, catching his wrist with one hand, squeezing tightly. His eyes went wide for a moment as his wrist crackled, then my other hand came around, sharp claws slashing right across his chest, tearing through his leather armor as if it didn't exist. Hot red blood sprayed out from the mercenary, splattering my chest, and the moment the blood touched my flesh, I ceased to fight. I became nothing more than an observer as the wolf spirit took over for me. I watched with a kind of strange fascination, both amazed and horrified, as the wolf began to fight in my stead.

I could see its thoughts as it fought and I was surprised. Even though it was a wild creature, savage in thought and deed, it still carefully considered every movement it made, every slight motion of its opponent. With every strike the enemy tried, images of hundreds of counters passed through our mind, every one considered and discarded so fast they were barely discernable. I was surprised to find that many were the techniques of the highly refined Slayer fighting style. The wolf was using my knowledge as well as its own as it fought. And when the wolf attacked, it actually aimed for the most vulnerable spots on the body. While I was considered an excellent fighter because of my instincts, this wolf was easily my match, and it thought out everything it did. While I sort of knew where my strikes would land, the werewolf actually aimed for specific points. Gut, neck, thigh, head; everywhere that soft flesh was exposed, the wolf's claws landed, entirely by design.

And then, as I watched the wolf rip into another mercenary, a horrible thought came to me. What if the werewolf bit one of our enemies? I knew that I couldn't let that happen. It was a matter of principle. I would not force the curse on anyone, not even my enemies. But even as the thought crossed my mind, I felt a new feeling coming from the wolf in reply. Disgust. And suddenly, I understood what it was thinking, as odd as it was. These mercenaries were pathetic, barely worthy of the term warrior in the wolf's eyes. They did not warrant any respect and it thought them unworthy of becoming werewolves. It wouldn't bite them even if they had gotten down on their knees and begged for it. They did not deserve the honor of receiving the gift of a companion wolf spirit.

That was how the wolf in me saw it. It was a strange and somehow flattering notion. The wolf spirit that inhabited my body actually respected me, thought I was worthy of its companionship. And then, suddenly, as I was contemplating this new revelation, I realized that the wolf spirit had returned control of our body to me. The reason why became suddenly apparent a moment later. It had run out of enemies to slaughter. More than twenty five mercenaries lay around me in various poses, not one of them moving. The crossbowman lay at my feet, his weapon smashed to splinters. I had not even been marked by my enemies and I quickly recovered my sword and dagger, turning to help Julianna. But the young princess I loved didn't need my help, it seemed. She had changed somehow during our journey together. The day we had met, she had seemed a dainty lady of the court, unable to defend herself. But now, she looked like a warrior.

I watched her as I moved to help and found her magnificent to look upon. Eight warriors lay slain in her direction, and four remained around her, all of them trying to disable her. But she was moving differently than I had ever seen before. While most warriors fought with savage fury in such a position, outnumbered four to one, she fought with an uncanny grace. Her hair had come loose from its long plait, and it flowed around her like a river, through which her daggers appeared like silver-green fish leaping from a stream. She did not block their attacks, did not so much dodge their advances, but rather flowed around their weapons as if she was made of liquid. But there was nothing soft and water like about her return blows. Each struck like a bolt of lightning cleaving stone. In the few moments I had watched her, she had laid two more warriors out almost end to end. Even as I approached her, she spun in a circle, daggers flashing in two bright rings in the late afternoon sun, then came to a rest. The remaining warriors fell to the ground slowly and I understood my wolf half's thoughts once more as its impressions turned warm with approval. Here was a warrior; this was one person worthy of the gift the bite would bring. Quickly I clamped down on that thought, and turned my mind instead to determining where the prince had gone.

I needn't have looked far. He stood back from the carnage, surrounded still by the knot of five scale-armored warriors, arms crossed casually. The look on his face was unreadable, but something in his eyes made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I had seen that something before, and it made my blood run cold as pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. My sudden suspicion was confirmed a moment later when he spoke again.

"Impressive." He commented, no trace of fear or surprise in his eyes. "I see now why Redamarc failed to kill you so many times Galen. But you Julianna. I did not expect such a performance from you. Oh well. Like it matters."

When he said this last thing, something changed. Though the clearing was lit with the afternoon sun, everything suddenly seemed to darken, as if clouds were passing across the sun. Talorn's eyes blazed with dark fire and all at once, I remembered what the something I had seen in his eyes was. The prince's black clothing suddenly flowed together, becoming the ever changing dark mist of demonic armor. The faces of the five warriors around him suddenly contorted, twisting out of shape, for they were nothing more than masks, veils covering the demons that lay beneath them. They started forward, moving quickly, faster than any of the human shaped demons had in the past. Talorn remained where he was, but I could feel his power. It was palpable, and it felt wholly unclean. It all made sense now. Talorn was not only in league with the demons, he was one of them.

Again, the werewolf joined its strength with mine and I lunged forward in a lightning swift one-two strike at the leading demon. But, to my amazement, the demon blocked both blows and struck at me, moving so fast I could only barely see it. I barely managed to catch its sword, noticing at once that it held the pale glimmer of silver within it. Two more demons advanced on me, and I leapt backward, warding off a pair of swift blows as I did so. I had never encountered a demon so fast before. They were nearly as fast as I was. But, before I could move forward to strike them, a black shaft of magic, like the opposite of a ray of sunlight reached out for me. But, once again, my wolf half saved me. Before the ray could touch me, the white mark of the crescent moon spread out on my chest flared suddenly bright, surrounding me with light. The ray stopped short, and the cold tingle of werewolf magic spread through me once more. And, with the magic came a sudden surge of confidence. It didn't matter how fast these demons were, I was better than any demon. Glancing down, I saw the silver set into my blades glowing with a pale radiance in response to the pulse of the magic, and I grinned. Before the nearest demon could react, I lunged into range, my sword beating aside its weapon, the dagger burying itself into the monster's chest, cleaving through armor and demon hide alike.

The creature let out a horrid, high pitched shriek, and obligingly burst into brilliant green flames. Moving as fast as I could, so fast the tendons in my leg strained painfully, I kicked the burning creature, sending it careening into one of its fellows. It too let out a shriek as the holy fires of the jade spread over it as well. Without being pierced my either weapon of magic, it would not die, but it flailed around wildly, trying to extinguish itself. While it was so occupied, I turned to face the remaining demon that had attacked me. It swung its silver sword at me in a wide arc, attempting to take my head as its trophy. Ducking beneath the blow, I swiped with all my strength, my sword cleaving through its wrist, shearing right through its vambrace. Deprived of its weapon, the demon swung at me with its other hand, clawing my chest. Its touch burned like fire, but my sword was already in mid swing. The demon's head came off, flying across the clearing to land at Talorn's feet, even as it ignited with brilliant fire. The flaming demon was still flailing around futilely, screaming its high pitched wail and I put it out of its misery with a single strike. Looking around the clearing, I found that Julianna's newfound skill had remained; two piles of ash were all that was left of the demons that came after her.

Nodding to Julianna, I turned to face Talorn once more, my love walking up so she stood beside me. Still, his face showed no fear. In fact, he was smiling. It was a terrible smile, the look of one delighted by carnage. And, as we approached, weapons held at the ready, he began to laugh. But it was not his voice that laughed at us. The voice was deep, dark and utterly corrupted. Before we could take a step towards him, the demon reached out towards us with a hand, and dark magic burst from his palm. Two thick tendrils shot towards us, writhing like snakes. One went for Julianna, wrapping her in its embrace, rooting her to the spot, struggling mightily, the other grabbing for me. But the werewolf magic would not submit to be bound by the demons, not again. The tendril recoiled from the silver white aura that surrounded me, but Talorn was unfazed. With a dismissive gesture, he changed his spell.

The searching tendril of black magic touched the ground before me, spreading out like a pool of night across the ground. And then, a figure began to rise from the pool, solidifying into a solid shape. When it had formed itself into a solid shape, I took a wary step backward, my blade coming up into a warding position. It was almost like looking into a mirror. The creature that now stood before me was not only like me, it was me. Down to the last detail, it matched me exactly, at least at first glance. It too wore a long cloak of grey, and carried a dagger and sword. But, after a moment I noticed, a few details were out of place. Its blades were purely silver, and it looked wilder than I did. But the biggest difference was in its eyes. Its eyes were the same color as the ones that looked back at me from my reflection, but the look in them was wholly evil. And then, as it began to stalk forward at me, its pupils began to glow red, pulsing with unholy light. I felt a hot anger rising within me and I knew that it came from within my own heart, not from the wolf in me. This beast had stolen my face, and that alone was insult enough to make me angry. But, even as my own anger rose within me, the wolf spirit's rose in reply. With a primal rage filling me, I ran forward, my sword coming down in a slash meant to remove the beast's head.

With a metallic clanging sound, my dark double's blade caught mine. My blow stopped short, and though I used all my strength against it, it matched me. Before I could reposition to attack again, its dagger came forward as a blinding burst of silver light. Sweeping it aside with my own dagger, I launched into a whirling series of attacks, attacking from every angle I could think of. But, every move I made was countered by my twin, and, when it found an opening in my defenses, it took advantage as fast I would have, its blade narrowly missing taking my head off in the process. And now, I was on the defensive, picking off every blow that came for me. Everything else began to fade into the background. All that mattered was this private duel between me and this evil beast that wore my face. We dueled back and forth for what seemed an eternity, neither able to gain advantage over the other. I began to become frustrated, for even my most cunning attacks were blocked before I could strike him. This frustration fueled my rage, and that should have given me the advantage, but my double seemed unfazed, matching me blow for blow all the same. I growled loudly, locking his sword at the hilt against my own, the crossbars interlocked, then jabbed with the dagger. My evil twin caught that too, driving it down and away with its own smaller weapon. We snarled at each other from close up, and suddenly I realized something.

This is not how a Slayer is supposed to be fighting. We spent years training to block out anger, training to go into battle with a cool, focused mental state. And, as my dark twin lunged forward, his jaws snapping shut an inch from my neck, causing my wolf half to jerk our head back, the words of my father, the Master Hunter who had trained me, came back to me. 'You must not give into your anger when fighting the demons. They feed off anger, it gives them power...' The words were like a bucket of ice water thrown into my face. It was no wonder this creature, this spawn of a demonic spell, was matching me. My anger, the fire that burned so hot, fueling my strength, was feeding it. Every angry strike I heaped upon it fed more strength into it. Quickly, I shoved against my dark twin, pushing off of him and arcing backward, landing on my feet five feet away. Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath, asserting control over my body once more. I locked away the burning anger that had filled me, refusing to draw on the rage of the werewolf that beckoned invitingly to me. Instead, I drew a second breath, long and slow into my body. My fiercely beating heart slowed down and I opened my eyes once more.

My dark twin was nearly upon me, but I was unafraid. As its blade slashed at me, I moved my sword in the way. Its sword bounced off my guard, rebounding, because it suddenly had no strength to match me. Twirling my wrist, I wove my sword in a figure eight, warding off a second blow from the creature and then, I struck in return from the side. With a single motion, I chopped and the beast let out a howl of anger and pain, staggering as its left leg below the knee fell to the earth. Quickly, I spun in a half circle, stabbing backward, spearing the beast's heart. It howled again, a long wail that sounded nothing like a werewolf, fading off into nothingness as its body dissolved back into a black puddle. The werewolf's rage and its wild strength had its place within me, but I had to keep my head. I couldn't afford to make such a mistake again. Drawing myself back up straight, I let out the breath and turned back to see what was happening with Julianna.

While I had been dueling my double, Talorn had approached the bound princess and was now standing with his back to me, speaking quietly to her. I could not make out the words, but Julianna's eyes went wide and a look of utmost disgust came to her face. She struggled more strongly against the dark tendril that had trapped her, but she could make no headway against it. I couldn't throw a weapon at him, because that would mean taking the chance of the weapon hitting her. But weapons were not all I possessed. Clasping my grey furred hand to the cross that hung around my neck, I tapped the wellspring of holy magic that lay within me. Kneeling, I touched the ground at my feet with my free hand. A warm golden glow spread through the ground, passing by the dark prince's feet and suddenly surged upward, enveloping my love. Instantly, the dark tendril released her as if it had been stung and she moved, as I knew she would. The prince staggered suddenly and I smiled. Two blades of silver and jade pierced all the way through his chest, the triangular points covered in black blood. He twitched mightily as jade fire began to spread across him, but he did not die. The jade could not overcome him, for some reason. Snarling, I rose to my feet and sprinted forward. The prince slashed at Julianna with one clawed hand, but she leaned back just in time. Before he could strike at her again, I swiped my sword across his neck in a mighty two handed blow.

For a moment, it seemed that the strike had done nothing at all, but then, the prince's head fell from his shoulders and both halves burst into flames, burning away to ash. But, even as the pieces burned, the prince laughed loud and long, his voice echoing throughout the clearing. Finally, after a few moments the green flames faded and only blackened ash remained. The prince was dead at last. Shaking my head, I wiped my sword off on my cloak's edge and sheathed it, then did the same with my dagger while I turned to Julianna. She was standing still, panting, her daggers held slack at her side. But, even as he walked forward, the dark voice that had last come from the prince echoed within the clearing once more.

"You may have defeated us this time." He said, mocking laughter filling his disembodied voice. "But you will never stop us completely. We will see you again."

"Are you alright?" I asked, coming over to her. She blinked, shaking her head to clear it, then nodded, sheathing her daggers. As she did that, I noticed a slice through the chest of her tunic, just below her collarbone. "Are you wounded?"

"I don't think so." She said, touching the torn cloth. "Doesn't hurt. I don't think it even touched me."

"Alright, if you are sure." I replied, looking down at the pile of ash that was all that was left of the prince. "I can't believe the priests didn't sense his powers."

"I'm not." She stated and I looked at her in surprise. "While I was bound by his magic, he decided to gloat over his plans. I think he thought you wouldn't survive fighting that thing he summoned. He made a blood pact with the legendary demons. They have been trying to get control of Gulnia for centuries, who knows why. But, when their cult was exposed and wiped out, they hatched a new plan. They decided to gain control of the royal family instead. They had to wait until the right conditions existed to enact their plan. They corrupted Talorn before I was promised to him, and when the deal was made between our fathers, he made a deal with them. In return for giving them me, they blended his blood with theirs' allowing him to be used as a vessel for their powers."

"But, even if they got control of you, it wouldn't give them Gulnia." I said, pointing out an uncharacteristic flaw in their planning. "If you were corrupted, the priests would know about it and you would have been killed."

"Yes, but their plan was for a child born of Talorn and I to take the throne of Reyan, and then he would unify the kingdoms." She explained and a wave of disgust and horror washed through me. With Talorn having demon blood, such a child would be utterly evil, a blight upon the world. "They obviously didn't count on you and I falling in love." I nodded in reply to her assessment. It answered all of my questions. Why the demons wanted Gulnia so bad still begged explanation, but I doubted we would ever find that out.

"I'll say this for the demons, if nothing else, they are patient." I commented, toeing the pile of ash. "We should go back to the castle and tell your father about this."

"You may be ready for another long day of walking, but I am too tired to go on anymore today. Let's wait for the morning to go back." She suggested and I smiled. That was alright with me. Gathering up our equipment, we moved our camp away from the ashy clearing and found a good place to set up about a half mile away, near to a stream. Once there, Julianna lay out her bedroll and I sat beside her, keeping watch while the sun began to set away to the west. I still didn't need to sleep every night, and tonight, I felt like sitting and thinking...

***

The next morning, we rose at dawn and turned back, walking towards the capital city once more. The journey back was as uneventful as the journey out had been, though I did notice that Julianna was looking a little pale while we walked. She had shrugged off my concerns when we had set out, calling it nothing more than feeling a little off. Still, I watched her carefully throughout the day. Finally, when we entered the castle courtyard, something else caught my attention. A dozen Slayers were sitting at a table in the yard, looking troubled and wary. A familiar horse was picketed nearby and I wondered why they were there. When we passed, the Slayers rose to their feet, saluting me. I returned the salute and entered the keep, still troubled. When the doors to the throne room were opened by the footmen standing outside them, and the herald announced us, I was not surprised to find my brother standing before the throne, the captain who had found the portal standing a pace behind and to the left of him. Both of them turned at the herald's call and relief broke over their faces.

"Galen, Julianna, it is good to see that you are safe." Aldric said. "We feared the worst."

"No, we are fine." I replied, bowing to him, "But what are you doing back here so soon?"

"We hadn't gone far along the road when a messenger reached us from the temple in Reyan." The Master Hunter explained. "One of the seers at the temple had a vision that Prince Talorn had turned from the light. He said he had entered into a dark covenant with the Demon Lords. Apparently, a deep seeded cult was discovered in Reyan's capital, one that Talorn was part of. The priests of the temple requested aid in routing out this cult. I sent the majority of my Slayers and the priests to go with all speed towards the temple, and I came back here to warn you."

"It's a little late for warnings brother." I replied dryly.

"Why, what happened?" Aldric asked.

"We already met Talorn out in the wilderness." I explained. "You don't have to worry about him anymore. He is dead. Julianna and I struck him down." While we had been talking, Julianna had been silent, standing easy beside me. But, right when I finished speaking, she swayed suddenly. I turned to her, concerned. "Julianna, are you okay?"

The princess did not reply in words. Instead, her brown eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed. Before she hit the ground, I caught her with my muscular arms, slowing her fall. Aldric and the king were at my side in an instant.

"What is wrong with her?" The king asked, shaking her, trying to wake her up.

"Was she hurt during the fight?" Aldric asked, digging in his belt for his pouch of jade powder.

"I didn't think so." I replied, reaching for the tear in the cloth that was the only sign of any injury. Tearing the cloth back, I saw what I most feared. There was a very slight wound on her pale flesh that was surrounded by grey, shot through with black striations.

"Send for the healers!!" Aldric cried, handing me the green pouch. I quickly opened it and then sprinkled a pinch of the powder on the cut. A puff of acrid smoke rose from it and Julianna cringed away from the pain. Then, ignoring everyone else in the room, I carefully lifted her in my arms and carried her from the chamber...

***

I sat crouched against the wall outside my love's bed chamber, my head in my hands. The king sat in a chair across the room, his thoughts his own. Handmaidens to the princess stood around the room, ready to be called on, but I ignored all of them. Aldric strode over to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Brother, this isn't your fault, you know that." He said. "You couldn't have done anything else."

"I could have checked the wound." I replied miserably. Memories were threatening to beat me down once more. Memories of the last time I had lost someone I had loved. Now it was happening all over again. "I should have prevented this. I know better than to leave a cut untreated when fighting them."

"Why should you have checked it?" he insisted. "She said it didn't hurt. And it was nothing more than a scratch. It barely drew blood, and such wounds don't cause this swift of a reaction. It wasn't cause for worry. Besides, you were fighting human mercenaries for most of the fight, not demons." When I didn't reply, he sighed. "Don't do this to yourself Galen, not again." He was about to continue when the door to Julianna's bedchamber opened. I looked up, hoping. A healer was there, dressed in the light blue robe of a priest of Arnath, the god of healing and the twin brother of Auré. He walked over to us and his face was not promising.

"We have done all we can." He said and my heart fell. I knew what that meant. "The poison has spread throughout her body. It is a form of Necrosis that is much more potent than any we have ever encountered before."

"How long?" I asked, not wanting to guess the answer. Too often in the past had I heard that announcement. Julianna was going to die. She had been infected with Necrosis poison, the deadly favorite of the demon's store of toxins. And worse, when she died, she would likely rise an undead and I or Aldric would be forced to kill her.

"A few hours at best." The healer replied. "I am sorry. She has asked for you, Hunter."

Slowly, I got to my feet, making the slow walk towards the chamber's door. It seemed a thousand yards away, and every step towards it was a horrible effort. Horrible thoughts kept ringing again and again through my head. How was this fair? Why did I deserve this? Did I really suffer all that pain and torment only to lose her like this? I heard the king get up and walk over to my brother as I walked from the room.

"What is he talking about?" he asked, and my brother answered slowly.

"Julianna has been infected with a demonic poison. It has spread throughout her body." Aldric explained. "There is nothing more that the healers can do. She is going to die."

About then, I passed the threshold into the darkened chamber where my love lay, cutting off the king's words as he replied to my brother. The scent of the healer's cleansing potions lingered in the room, along with the sickly sweet scent of the poison. In the small chamber, it was concentrated enough for my sensitive nose to pick up on. Slowly, I walked to the bedside, kneeling beside her. Julianna's skin was pale, and she was sweating, the poison taking its toll on her. She was shivering and trembling all over as if she were cold, though the room was oppressively hot. Despite all that she still managed a smile when she saw me. Lifting a trembling hand, she caressed my wolfish face, wiping away a tear that I didn't remember crying. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice was so weak I had to lean in to hear her.

"Those had better not be for me." She said, her joke making me smile in spite of the sorrow that welled within me.

"I am so sorry my love." I said and her smile widened slightly. "If I had caught it sooner, this wouldn't have happened."

"Don't worry about that." She said, her hand falling to my shoulder. "I should have checked it myself." Suddenly, her hand clenched and she grimaced, a wave of pain flooding her. Knowing I had not the power to help her, I reached out, pulling her to me, holding her tightly, comforting her with my presence. Julianna drew in a shaking breath, then whispered, her voice wracked with pain and fear. "Galen..." I drew closer to her, listening hard, for she was almost impossible to hear. "My love...Bite me." I recoiled, understanding instantly what she was asking.

"No." I replied, drawing back in surprise. "I can't do that. I won't."

"Please Galen." She begged quietly, her eyes pleading. "I do not wish to die this way. I would rather live as a werewolf then die from this poison. Please."

"Julianna, I cannot promise that you will be free from their control." I replied, resisting the notion mightily. "I don't want you to have to suffer that pain. I don't want you to suffer what I have."

"I would rather take that chance to be with you." She said, and I found myself once again trapped in the depths of her brown eyes. They were so full of love and understanding that I felt my resistance steadily crumbling. Finally, I closed my eyes and nodded, resigning myself to the act I had once sworn to myself I would never carry out, especially not on the one I loved. Julianna smiled again and, as I held her close once more, she spoke, whispering one last thing. "Promise me one thing. If I end up under their control, I want you to be the one to end it. Promise me that."

"I promise." I replied, sliding the sheet back from her bare shoulder. "I love you Julianna."

Then, without anymore hesitation for fear I would be unable to do it, I opened my jaws. With my eyes still closed, I bit down hard on her shoulder, my fangs piercing deeply. As the taste of my lover's flesh filled my jaws, I heard Julianna gasp quietly. I held my fangs within her for a few moments, trying to ignore the bitter taste of her blood, feeling the odd sensation of my venom flooding into her. Finally, I pulled my teeth from her, staunching the bleeding with a fresh bandage the healer had left nearby. Julianna began to shiver harder, her teeth gritting as the venom spread through her. I knew that the burning had begun. Hopefully, it would be better for her than it had been for me, but only time would tell. Smiling sadly, I kissed her forehead, tapping my magic again, sending her into slumber with a spell. Then, I left her bedside, horrified and disgusted with what I had done. Wordlessly, my head down, I left the room and slumped against the wall, tears leaving dark streaks on my face as they fell, oblivious to the red blood that trailed from my jaws.

Julianna's father and Aldric both looked at me with pity for a moment, then Aldric cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. Coming over to me, he reached up and swiped with the back of his hand at my chin. Looking at the dark red fluid that had collected there, he glared accusingly at me.

"Galen, what have you done?" he asked. I opened my eyes and looked at him. The accusing look on his face faded somewhat as he saw the self loathing and utter disgust in my eyes.

"She asked me to bite her." I explained. The King shot up to his feet and ran to my side, grabbing two fist-fulls of fur and shoving me back against the wall. If I had felt like it, I could easily broken the man's grip, but I was tempted to do much worse to myself.

"And you did it?!" he shouted, his face flushing bright red with anger.

"I do not ask your forgiveness, you majesty." I said quietly. "But you have to understand. The only creatures that are immune to the effects of necrosis poison are werewolves." For a moment, the king looked bewildered and he let me go.

"You mean she will live now?" he asked. I nodded slowly, and his face lit up with a relieved smile.

"Already the werewolf power is clearing the poison." I said, "But now, in seven nights, when the full moon rises, she will become a werewolf..."