Taming the Wolf Prince (Re-uploading Edited Chapters)

Chapter 21 Little White Wolf

Tamer's eyes burst from troubled intervals of sleep numerous times during the night, nonetheless relieved to find Winter's sleeping face dimly lit by a panel of moonlight. While it was still dark, he could stay in this little bubble with her forever and continue to drown away all his anxiety in her lips.

Huddling Winter to his chest, her warmth lulled him to sleep again. He slipped in and out of dreams about their past together like his whole life was flashing before his eyes before the final battle.

His sleeves were shabby and oversized, but at the very least they provided an extra layer of warmth as he folded them like mittens over his fingers. Pressing his reddened fingers against the ice-cold glass, Tamer did as he did every day about this time: Watch the little girl with the bouncing black curls and the glowing white dress play by herself amongst the crowd.

Recently, he'd found himself even anticipating her arrival for some reason. He shot a tepid glance over his shoulder to make sure his Father was still knocked out cold before pressing his nose against the glass - he really shouldn't have been out where people might see him, but whenever he watched her play with that little white wolf toy, he'd find himself strangely at ease. Always, his eyes would linger with such intense interest at how she huddled it so fondly against her chest. She loved and cared for that thing like it was a real pup. It burned a warm sensation within him in the bitter cold, like kindling a flame that gave him the strength to push on. His Father always hated wolves and so did the rest of the villagers -- they had even killed his mother for being one. He wondered why she seemed to like them so much. It made him wonder if there were other humans who liked wolves. Maybe humans that liked him.

Tamer's overgrown hair flopped over his eyes. He swept the unkempt strands away; he couldn't say what was so engaging about watching her pretend to brush a toy, but he found himself mesmerised by the gentle care with which she treated the wolf. Almost soothed, like the slow movements of her tiny hands back and forth was a visual lullaby.

A strangely bitter scowl soured his face as she pretended to feed it. That optimistic warmth was sucked inward to the black hole in his stomach. He couldn't watch anymore, wrapping his hands around his stomach.

There was a smash. Face paling, Tamer lurched with fright. He ducked down with his head clutched in his hands, but nothing reached his direction. His father's snores turned into a groan. Heart racing, Tamer looked up; the bottle of alcohol in his Father's hand had smashed to the floor, but somehow, the picture of his mother remained loosely grasped in his the other.

His footsteps were tentative, but he couldn't stand much more.

"Father," Tamer whispered, seizing the opportunity while he was awake. He gently edged closer, nudging him. "I'm hungry."

His father grumbled. "Go away, Tamer," he rasped.

"But..."

"You're an animal, aren't you!" he snapped. Eyes growing heavy and voice turning into a slur, he started drifting back to sleep."Make yourself useful and go learn to hunt or something."

Tamer's eyes flickered towards the door.

But if they find out I'm a wolf, they'll...

He stared at the door for a long time until his stomach growled. That girl was still out there. If he pretended to hunt perhaps he would be allowed to feel the fresh air on his skin for once.

Eventually, his hunger propelled him forward over the dreadful anxiety that held him back. He reckoned he was still small and skinny enough that he could pass as a stray dog. He edged towards the door, hiding behind the frame before shifting in a burst of light.