My Valiant Princess

Allegra Wolfehart’s footsteps echoed loudly as she stormed down the spiral staircase hidden deep within the walls of Chateau-Loup. The sheer ridiculousness of the council members’ conversation astounded her. No! It left her pissed and irate.

The utter rubbish.

The lies.

This pack of wolves, meant to cooperate for their species’ welfare, had dismissed her ideas to prevent deforestation. Despite the kingdom’s ample resources, they justified their actions by citing the enormous financial gain. They didn’t need more money. Hadn’t they heard of budgets?

Sophia, Gabriel, and Emilio had ignored her pleas for aid for the struggling werewolves in the west, disregarded her proposals, and acted as if her voice didn’t matter. She was the princess of Val-des-Loups and the sole remaining royal, but they’d treated her like an infant. The response from Maria, Andreas, and Maximillian had been as damning.

Silence.

Was the entire council against her? She didn’t know, but the idea of innocent wolves suffering made her skin crawl and fire rage in her blood.

As she emerged from the staircase, a pair of chateau security guards, older wolves who’d known her as a young pup, greeted her. She tried to muster a smile, but agitation from her wolf rippled through her mind in smoky gray waves.

“Is everything okay, Princess Allegra?” one of them asked.

Damn. Given their scrutiny, her eyes were glowing with werewolf gold intensity instead of her normal blue. She exhaled deeply, trying to rein in her inner wolf.

“Yes, thank you.” Allegra fought to keep her voice steady. “I have a headache after the meeting. Some fresh air should do the trick.”

The guards stepped aside with deference, their boots creating a sharp echo as they tapped against the marble tiles. The fabric of their uniforms swished and rustled. Allegra marched through the chateau’s resplendent halls, her heavy footsteps reverberating off the walls. She ignored the servants’ curious stares, her focus on the injustice of the council’s decision.

What was her next move?

She gritted her teeth, determination coursing through her veins because she refused to let this pass. The logging must end. Their forests had dwindled at an alarming rate while the council didn’t seem to understand that werewolves needed nature to thrive. What would her parents have done? Her brother?

A lump formed in her throat as she tried to recall the sharp details of their faces. An assassin had snatched her family from her, and their deaths had left a yawning hole in her heart.

Her parents—the king and queen of Val-des-Loups—had been influential leaders, and she prayed she’d live up to their legacy. She wondered if they’d be proud of her now as she struggled to gain the council’s support. The grief was so tangible, a physical presence, and her vision blurred as she slipped through a side door and exited the chateau. Princesses controlled their emotions. She swiped her hand over her face and inhaled the fresh, spicy scent of the breeze.

Outside, the warm hues of a late afternoon cast a golden glow over the chateau’s manicured gardens. The tinkling of water falling from a statue’s urn into the pond below didn’t provide the usual tranquility. A lonely hawk’s cry echoed from the trees beyond the chateau walls, piercing the stillness.

Another wave of misery flooded her, and Allegra barely registered the beauty around her as she marched across the courtyard toward the chateau’s boundary fence. With a backward glance, she slipped through a gate and beelined for the edge of the royal forest. When she reached the trees, she paused and listened to the rustling leaves. The cool air hit her face as she inhaled, trying to calm her mental state. But it was no use. The helpless fury that boiled within her refused to budge.

Allegra scanned her surroundings again, and once she confirmed she was alone, she yanked off her sneakers. Next came her jeans and tailored shirt—her nod to the council’s stuffy need for formal apparel, then her underwear. With ease of practice, she folded her clothing and tucked it and her shoes in a dry spot, out of sight of a casual observer.

Yet another tear streamed down her face, and she wiped it away with an impatient brush. Crying solved nothing. Neither would nursing her hurt sensibilities. She required concrete ideas and a way to exert her authority over the council. Although only twenty-three, she was far from stupid. Finishing school had taught her well, and with her bookkeeping skills, she could tell something was off with the royal accounts.

Allegra drew in a deep breath, rich in forest greenery, and let it drift back out. She repeated this, exhaling slowly as her brother had taught her to combat her anxiety about public appearances. His advice worked then, and it did now. More centered, she called up her wolf.

When her transformation began, she convulsed with the usual pain and didn’t fight the natural progression. Bones cracked and rearranged themselves. Her skin itched and burned as hair sprouted from every pore. Primal power and energy surged through her veins, a sense of triumph and rightness as she fell to all fours. The world around her shifted, colors and sounds becoming sharper and more vibrant. Exhilaration and freedom washed over her as she broke into a run, her feet thudding against the leaf-strewn dirt path. Allegra embraced nature and fled deeper into the dense pine and spruce forest.

But the sense of peace she craved didn’t come, her mind still racing with anger and frustration. How could the council members act so heartlessly? Didn’t they see the suffering of their kind? Allegra had to do something, but what? She couldn’t sit idly by and watch as her people grew weaker and drifted from traditional pack ties or worse turned to crime.

She pushed herself harder and farther than she ever had before. The wind whipped through her fur, and the rustle of tiny woodland creatures scurrying to safety reached her ears. She needed to find a solution, but her mind was a blank screen.

On and on she ran, the trees ending without warning. Allegra jerked to a halt, stumbling into the clearing. It was not the natural forest beauty that caught her attention. Enormous machinery had torn up this ground, leaving massive scars on the earth. Someone had felled the majestic trees that had stood here for hundreds of years. The scent of sawdust led her to a pile of logs stacked in a neat heap.

This was not the work of nature.

It was intentional.

The council?

She’d bet the contents of her bank account on this assumption.

Allegra’s heart sank at this additional proof of the council’s corruption. Their greed extended even into the sanctity of the old forest.

She stared at the desecration, a fierce growl rumbling through her chest. The birds ceased singing, emphasizing the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Allegra’s head snapped up, a warning prickling her neck. The fur down her back stood on end. She listened intently while she surveyed the vicinity, searching for the source while every sense screamed of imminent danger.

A sharp crack pierced the hush of the forest, and she flinched as a piece of bark flew off the tree trunk next to her. The muffled phut made her jump. Instantly, she crouched, making herself small, her light brown fur blending with the undergrowth.

Gun.

Her muscles trembled, her entire body tensing. A second shot hit a nearby tree. Allegra didn’t hesitate. Someone was shooting at her. It was time to beat a hasty retreat.