The Beautiful Wolf

*MELENA**

It's been ten years since I shifted into my second form, so I have forgotten what my human body used to look like.

I was twelve when I was last within my human form. It was also the day I not only became an orphan but also a packless wolf.

On that blood-curdling day, I swore to myself that I would never show my human form to anyone, and so I never shifted again, always remaining in my wolf form.

Hot tears filled my eyes as I recalled the death of my parents and the end of my pack.

Tormented by guilt for being the cause of their death, I wished I had never been born or had died at birth.

"Why did you give me this beautiful human form if it only causes destruction?" I yelled at the sky, angrily at the moon goddess.

Having such a rare, ethereal appearance, I couldn't walk around in my human form without men trying to claim me or fight for me.

"I hate myself, and I hate you too, moon goddess!" I again screamed in anger.

I screamed until my throat felt sore and my voice sounded hoarse.

Lying within a cave within the forest, which has been my home for the past ten years. I wished on the day I'd lost everyone that I had allowed the alpha to have his way with me. If I had done so, my parents and the entire pack would still be alive.

Why didn't I think of that before that terrible incident occurred?

"Stupid wolf," I bang my head against the hard walls of the dark cave.

I feel a throbbing pain, but what I felt inside was much worse. There was no pain within this world that could measure up to it.

I wish I were not alive and my parents and the entire pack were. I whined softly within the dirty cave.

The scent of the cave smelled old and frowsty, but it didn't compare to my horrid scent. I have not taken a bath throughout these years after the hellacious incident. There was no need to anyway. This cursed body doesn't need to be taken care of, because of it, my pack went extinct.

Whatever goes inside it, I don't care either. It doesn't deserve a proper meal, even though I will never receive a decent one.

Now, I eat anything I can find, a roach or a dead bird lying before a tree. I don't know what killed it. As I have said, whatever goes inside this cursed body. I don't care.

I was once a white wolf. Now I don't know what colour I am. Maybe I'm grey or some kind of brown; I laughed insanely.

What had happened ten years ago, I remembered it as if it had just happened now.

I was standing at the window watching my mom pick string beans for supper from our small farm while Dad cut the wood for the fire.

I wasn't allowed to go outside to play with the other she-wolves or to make friends. I was such a beautiful she-wolf that males had a hard time controlling their desire to have me, and females were so jealous of my beauty that they'd do anything to start a fight with me, so my parents thought it was safer to be inside at all times.

When I finally left the house, it was only to attend a pack meeting. It was mandatory to attend.

From the window, I saw a young blonde male running towards our land with a letter in his hand. He gave it to my dad and looked towards the window as he was leaving to see me.

Anyone who came to see my dad or was just passing by would try to get a glimpse of my beauty.

The young blonde male smiled once he saw me, and I shyly hid behind the blue curtain.

Having been kept inside nearly my entire life, I was a very shy wolf.

When the young male had gone, I resumed watching Dad, now opening the letter.

With a focused expression—squinted eyes and furrowed brow—Dad began to read the letter.

Suddenly, his eyes widened, and fear took over his face as he read, which now worried me, knowing him as a wolf that rarely shows any sign of fear.

Mom, also witnessing the look of fright on Dad's face, ran towards him with the basket of string beans, and I drew closer to the window, as if by doing so, I too could get a close view of what was inside the letter as well.

Mom dropped the basket of the picked string beans, and they scattered all over the ground. She was reading through the letter as well, and as soon as she was through, her head turned toward the brown cottage, spotting me from the window.

Her eyes, a lighter blue shade than mine, sparkled with fear as they met mine, scaring me, while Dad stood still there, as if the letter had magically transformed him into a statue.

What was within that letter that scared him? I was now eager to know.