Cassidy's POV

The wind blew past my ears as I urged my stallion to gallop faster. I like riding, especially through these woods. I know that father says it's dangerous and full of bandits and he's probably right, but I've lived here my whole life and never been attacked. 

Besides, I know how to fight. I am the son of the gentry. I know to handle a sword.

While I am not old, I am still on the cusp of adulthood. Father should no longer worry so much about me going out, honestly. As it is, it's late enough that my father would probably be worried. 

I make my way through the forest back to the manor as quickly as I can. 

It is the night of the full moon and I shouldn't be out here. Since young, my father has always told me stories of werewolves that prowled the very woods that I enjoyed exploring. I have yet to chance upon any. Not even normal wolves.

He's told me countless bedtime stories and fairytales of men who could transform into beautiful monstrous beings under the pale light of the moon. 

There are no werewolves anymore though, because of a disease that wiped out most of the werewolves in this kingdom. Any remaining werewolves have either succumbed to death or moved away.

As I move through the forest on the path of dried leaves, a light wind blows through, ruffling the leaves in the trees. Before, I wasn't listening to anything but my own panting. Now that I was listening properly, the forest was unnaturally silent. I slowed my steed in caution.

My heartbeat picked up. As I expected, a soft whistle blew past my ear and an arrow lodged itself into the branch ahead of me, startling me and my horse. A little to the left and that arrow would have pierced my eye. 

My horse reared back, catching me by surprise. I desperately tried to hold on as I was thrown off. I broke my fall with my wrist, breaking that instead. Pain caused a spike of adrenaline in my veins as I scrambled up, grabbing my dagger with my good hand; which was also not my master hand, so not actually very good. I spun around to face my attackers, red riding cloak swishing behind me.

Shit.

I brought my arms up, wielding the dagger as threateningly as possible.

"We got ourselves a good'un here! One of those lord's son from the looks of it eh!"

I bristled in anger.

"Come on then, ye know what we are, give us anythin' valuables an' maybe we won't hurt ye," the leader laughed.

"Leave this forest and I won't press charges," I replied warningly. The big brute standing a little in front of the leader pointed his crossbow at me.

“Now, Brian, don't shoot'im. You almost got his eye. Or he ain't pretty anymore!" He crowed in delight. "Well, boy, show us what ye got!"

I counted to three in my head and lunged at the leader. He stepped aside easily, cackling in amused delight. I swung my dagger at him but he caught my wrist and kneed my stomach. I swore loudly. 

Whatever training I'd had in school was alarmingly useless. 

"What a dirty mouth! That all ye got, pretty boy?" He laughed as he taunted me.

I glared at him, gritting my teeth through the waves of pain from my bruised stomach and my broken wrist. 

"Fuck. You." I panted. 

His expression darkened. He grabbed my hair and pulled, bending down to speak in my ear. "Better watch your mouth, boy. Or I'll make ye regret it."

I spat at his feet. He growled and punched my stomach again. I crumpled to the ground.

I didn't know how long they kept kicking me. I just knew that everything was starting to feel numb. As best as I could, I curled up trying to protect myself. But even the ringing in my ears couldn't block the howl that filled the cold night, loud and clear. 

Only, there weren't supposed to be any wolves left.