(ACT 02) The Half-Shifter

It wasn’t just a mere weakness on her part, it was another cross his sister had to bear, a punishment for a crime she did not even commit: to be trapped in a loop of an intensified pain, of her worst fears being realized over and over again, one where she had never healed, never managed to escape from.

This was Proserpina’s curse.

This slow descent to madness was one William had seen happen to her before, a long time ago when some nights had gone too long, and old memories proved too much.

Sometimes she had to be stuck by his side for days or barricaded within her room in fear of a monster coming back to drag them both, especially when a kill had gone so horribly wrong, no matter how rare it was... but the sight of it still made him want to cry like a little child.

They may have escaped Roman’s clutches over a decade ago, but he doubted his sister fully had left that wretched place after all this time… something she might have realized by now.

Gods please, just make it stop make it stop make it stop!

Over the pain, over his sister's screams, William swore he can hear a beastly roar answering his prayer… somewhere near and far.

Throughout the chaos, William suddenly caught sight of a large shadowy, movement stalking across the doorway like a predator hunting its prey. White fangs and reddish, brown-colored eyes stood out against the faint glow of the moonlight, but he could barely see the newcomer through the dust and haze of his tears.

And when he did, when he finally realized what it was, his heart very nearly leapt out of his throat in fright. What the fucking hell is a werewolf doing here?!

To say the werewolf was massive is an understatement as the monster was almost as towering as the Cyclopes. The werewolf with matted, dark brown fur stood on his feet, slightly hunched to pass through the doorway, his fangs and dark claws longer and sharper than the rogues William had the displeasure of facing a few months ago on the borders of the Western pack.

...a half-shifter, William realized, face paling.

Fuck.

As the werewolf crept over to where Winters lay trembling and crying face-down on the floor, William gritted his teeth but couldn't bring his limbs to move, crippled with trauma and terror.

Crouching over the prone goddess, the werewolf slowly reached for her face with his huge hands, claws dangerously grazing her face and William forced himself not to flinch, his trembling hands gripping the crossbow as he instinctively tried to take aim.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” he yelled, “Stay away from the goddess, wolf!”

In response, the werewolf glanced at his direction with such an ugly, furious snarl that William very nearly yelped like a frightened child.

He had seen and fought monsters since he was a young teen but... but this… he had never seen a more disturbing sight up close. Half-shifters were supposedly a myth even within their kind, no one had ever fought one and if they did, they most likely haven’t lived to tell the tale. So why the hell is one standing in front of him now?!

One moment the werewolf's face looked that of a normal man, the next it was a cross between something like human and then that of a beast.

The werewolf growled as if sensing his disgust, as if sneering at his fear, his moment of weakness… but when William somehow got past his horror, he realized that the werewolf was actually trying to speak, to communicate. “On... h-her... sh… side...”

If this night couldn't get any more disturbing (because sure, why the hell not?) the werewolf reached over and brought Winters into his arms, his actions slow, undeniably gentle as he slightly rocked back and forth as though he was handling an infant instead of a grown woman, his hands trying to wipe away the ichor but flinched away when it burned him like hot-molten gold.

Still, the werewolf didn’t even falter, didn’t dared to stop until most of the tears from her face have been carefully brushed away. It was so out of place, coming from someone who looked so beastly… and that was when William realized that his sister’s screaming has finally stopped.

“What the fuck...?” William managed to croak out to the still silence, the crossbow practically slipping from his hands as he stared.

Winters was still staring with wide open eyes at nothing, her gaze glassy and unseeing… William knew his sister was most likely catatonic with shock at this point, memories that he'd rather she forget probably being played in her mind's eye on a merciless loop.

“Not... angry, not... a-any... more...” the werewolf was saying to Winters softly, nuzzling her face, almost affectionately, “Here, I’m here… you’re safe.”

“He's –” a look of apprehension instantly dawned in the vampire's carmine eyes, watching this completely strange interaction, shock and disgust practically coating his voice as he pushed the shelf off of him aside, “...t-that animal... he’s her mate?”

William hesitated at that, looking over the way the werewolf held his sister protectively close at that, growling in warning to the vampire’s direction (who backed up a step) and at the next second, he steeled himself.

If that is true... then, this is a good opportunity.

Too good to pass up.

The werewolf would never hurt Winters, would believe he'd been born to provide, to protect her no matter how much of a jerk and possessive and a headache this entire thing would be.

William could live with that.

He’ll think more about the details… later.

“My brother,” Winters suddenly choked out a sob, breaking William out of his thoughts, ichor dripping messily down her chin, a spark of clarity returning to her still glazed eyes, “…W-Will? William–?”

“Winters?” he called, leaning closer as much as he can, warily glancing over at the werewolf just in case this thing tried to rip his throat out, “I'm here. I'm right here, it’s okay. We’re okay now…” William held out his hand before she panics again and Winters quickly latched on to it in a tight grip, her head snapping to his direction, eyes wide and unfocused, staring but looking past him.

Meanwhile, the werewolf was staring at their conjoined hands for a moment with an unpredictable look on his face… before he spared such a hateful glance at the other monsters over his shoulder, the fury so palpable within his eyes that they both wisely took a step back.

Then, his gaze moved to Winters again, his eyes softening a fraction, lingering at the apprehensive glare William was giving him. The half-shifter's gaze was unreadable but strangely not so hostile towards William unlike it had been earlier.

“For you,” the werewolf growled out, “I'll... bring them... to Hades.”