The She-wolf Assassin and the Lycan Crown Prince

As the first light of dawn spread over the horizon, it cast a pale glow on the world below. A chill lingered in the thick forest, and everything was still cloaked in cold stillness. In the heart of the forest, Crystal emerged and crouched down at the spot she had occupied at the same time every day for the past week. She did this for every target she had to assassinate: study them to know a particular routine they took regularly, then strike in the course of that activity. Today was the day this particular target would go down. “He’s here! He’s here!!” Crystal’s wolf, Muna, echoed urgently in her mind. Crystal rolled her eyes and replied silently, “I know Muna; I can see him as clearly as you do.” She watched the target jog into the forest and transform into his wolf form, and with sinewy muscles rippling beneath his dark brown fur, he started his morning run. Crystal watched him with unwavering focus. Each of his footfalls sent a soft thud reverberating through the earth and Crystal’s vision was so acute that she could see steam slide out in wispy tendrils from his panting breath, mingling with the crisp morning air. “Steadyyy! Steadyyy!” Luna cooed in Crystal’s mind. Crystal remained perfectly still, blending easily into her environment with her black hooded cloak. As she watched her target approach, her silver eyes glowed with predatory anticipation. She was excited about the upcoming chase. As the unsuspecting runner drew near, Crystal’s muscles tensed, and with a sudden burst of speed and Muna screaming “Attack now!” in her head, she launched at her target and got a tight hold of his forelimb. With a suaveness natural to her, she swung herself up on the wolf’s back, riding it astride as on a horse. The running wolf halted immediately and straightened himself more out of shock than defence, which he quickly recovered from. In the blink of an eye, the wolf rolled, and the two creatures collided and engaged in a fierce primal struggle for dominance, but the wolf stood no chance against Crystal, whose large, razor sharp paws slid out of her hand, dug into her target’s thick mane, and separated his head from his body with a fierce pull. The wolf struggled for a while, transformed back to a headless human, and then lay still, lifeless, on the frost covered plants. “Ha! Take that, Bozo!” Muna screamed with a triumphant whoop. “Bozo? Really?” Crystal asked sarcastically. “Yeah, he showed up all macho and domineering but we took him down easily, like a small bag of potatoes.” Muna justified with a whine. “Well, the fight was interesting.” Crystal sighed sarcastically and took the target’s ring of authority. She felt a little disappointed about how fast she ended her target, as she wanted a real fight that would get her blood pumping so she would release steam from the tension of the nightmare she had the previous night. She always had nightmares since the night she escaped from her werewolf pack—the night it was raided and most of the pack members were killed by the Sovereign Lycan’s men. Muna sensed Crystal’s line of thought and said, "Oh, Cryssy, I’m sorry you have to go through this every night.” Crystal sighed deeply in reply, with drooping shoulders and her head downcast. Darkon Verecarl and his family were the last generation of Lycans, known as the most powerful creatures in her world. He became power hungry at a point and decided there had to be only one ruling alpha and he should be that one. He, together with his army of mutant werewolves, started wiping out all alphas and their packs that would not come under his central rule as the Sovereign Lycan; he called them traitors and decided that all traitors must die. “As the alpha of the Mortimer pack, my father had no trouble going under the rule of the Sovereign Lycan, so he stepped down as the alpha but he was framed and portrayed as a traitor, hence the raid.” Crystal explained bitterly. “Bloody murderers, I will get them all someday.” Crystal fumed, thinking about it all. “I feel guilty everyday, thinking about how my parents and brothers are gone and I am the only one left from the Mortimer family.” She sighed deeply as she made her way to her client. She still remembered that night many years ago, like it happened a few minutes ago. Her parents opened the secret passage for their children to escape through; she was the first to run through, her tiny 12-year-old legs wobbly due to fear. Her three brothers were some distance behind her, but before they could cross the passage to the other side, they were caught, and from her hideout, she watched them die by the fangs of the mutant werewolves. She tried to scream but she couldn't, as she had gone dumb with shock. If she had screamed, they would have found her and killed her too. She felt pain, fear, surprise, and most of all, anger. Her young self passed out for a very long time and woke up in a very different place. “Wow, they say you deliver promptly and they are not wrong; I am impressed.” The slurred words of her client brought Crystal out of her reflections. She had sent a message to her client to meet her at the deserted Holloway alley so she would deliver and get her payment. Her client stood at the far end of the alley but she could perceive his fear. “Good! Let him be scared of us.” Muna muttered, irritated. Crystal wasn’t bothered by the fact that people were scared of her, even her clients. Everyone knew how vicious she was and that she could eliminate anyone without breaking sweat; they also knew that she had a foul temper. Wordlessly, she stepped forward, her movement calculated and precise. Her client watched with anticipation and trepidation as she approached in her thick black cloak and heavy hoodie, which covered every part of her body. With a subtle nod, she reached into her cloak, brought out the evidence of her success- the ring of authority and threw it at her client’s feet. For a moment, there was only silence, then her client stepped forward, picked up the ring, affirmed it with a firm nod of approval and gave her a big black pouch, which was her payment for a job well done. “Thank you, Chris.” Her client said with a hint of gratitude in his shaky voice. She didn't say a word; she never spoke to her client verbally in order not to sabotage her disguise. With a nod, she turned on her heels and started for home. “Thank you, Chris, referring to a man. If only they knew that it was a woman they revered and are also scared of.” Muna mused amusingly. Crystal laughed with Muna all the way home. She decided to walk the secret path home, as she needed to clear her head from the foggy nightmare. It was ironic that everyone thought that the famous werewolf assassin was a man named Chris, whereas underneath the heavy black cloak was a tall, curvy woman named Crystal. No one knew she was a woman and the thought always made her smile.