The whole keep awoke at a man's screams. Long, painful screams for too many seconds during which Joan had lost all control.
When she finally stopped, the man stumbled back and looked with terror at the humanoid beast that now lurked before him. And she, with his hood fallen, could see that fear on the man's face.
Blood at her lips had her still entranced and she thought, she could not let him go now. He had seen her, he had to die. He had to die and then she would have to eat her whole body, even the bones, and she was trembling in anticipation.
But she could hear everyone rushing from their beds, the floor in commotion and knew she didn't have a minute to act.
That man knew it as well.
How he could still stand despite his wounds was but her blood now running in his veins. Terror filled her eyes as well.
"Run." She whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.
He looked for his dagger, understood there was no time left and, one last time, looked at the monster before him, this time with rage. She watched him run away, heard his dash as the first doors opened.
If they stopped him now, his wounds would betray her nature.
So Joan forced herself to scream as well even as she turned back to a human. The clothes slowly emerged anew, unstained and her voice, feral for a moment, became clear once more.
The pursuers went for her instead.
For the few seconds she had before their arrival, she dipped the kirtle in that man's blood, then picked his dagger. A story was forming in her head, still confused and she pressed herself against the wall.
Both brothers emerged through the door.
"What happened?!"
"Are you alright?"
She simply pointed at the blood but in the darkness they could hardly see what it was other than some liquid.
Down the hallway other cries followed, warning of the intruder and calling for light. As soon as they thought they had him, their voices turned to confusion. The man was gone.
One brother guarded the door while the other was inspecting her. His finger touched the thin cut at her neck.
"It's okay, it only grazed you."
"He took me by surprise." She blurted out.
Her voice was shaken, almost fearful. No matter how many times she ran a story in her head, it all sounded easy to disprove. She had just joined the humans. She had been accepted.
But there was nothing she could say to explain what had transpired.
But what truly made her tremble was the thought of the curse spreading. He could feel her raw emotion, a woman still holding the dagger she had used to defend herself and he snatched it off her hands.
"You are safe now." The noble told her. He held her head facing his. "Eh! Listen to me. He is gone."
"Bring the light here!" His twin ordered in the corridor.
A servant brought the candle, followed by two guards with torches and swords.
Before them appeared the blood, splattered up to the wall and pooling otherwise. None of it looked like a stab wound.
"Wow." A twin whistled. "You really made him squeal."
"Stay with her." The other said. "I'll go find that intruder."
His brother held him by the arm.
"Don't bother. He is gone. If he is not, with a wound like that, the dogs will sniff him out in no time."
They gave more orders, especially to protect their father and check the treasury, but she didn't pay attention to that. Joan had sit on the chest, on the chemise she was meant to wear. Hands on her head, she was trying to figure out what to do.
Magic! Magic, she thought, but just like her ritual, resorting to it would only attract attention.
And likewise, the curse's spread would not only be noticed but incur wrath. She would be killed along with every living being in this domain. The next moon would come by mid-morning, at which point if that man was weak, and he was, he would turn.
Now that she could think more clearly, this situation was worse than being found.
"He has to die!" She got up and rushed to the twins.
They turned to calm her.
"He will die, don't worry."
"He has to! He must die, as soon as possible!"
"Calm down already." Abelard groaned, irritated. "Or is there something we should know?"
Corentin crouched near the blood: "He didn't come for her."
"How do you figure?"
"First, she wasn't sleeping. The bed is not even disturbed. Second, she has a good ear, she could hear father yell at the mercenaries this afternoon. Third, the stab happened neither at the bed nor at the door, but inside."
"Meaning he pushed you in." Abelard looked at Joan, still suspicious.
"And he had no reason to do that if all he wanted was kill her. So," he got up and turned to her, "you heard him, opened the door, surprised him and he tried to silence you."
All she could do was nod. Meanwhile, two servants had come with rags and a basin to clean the blood.
"How many times did you stab? Eight, ten times? The real mystery is how he could still move after that."
Dogs had been brought has well. They could tell her nature and so barked at the door, but the guards dragged them further in the hallway.
Abelard dragged her to the bed and forced her to lay down.
"He won't go far. I will find him, I promise. A guard will stand at the door. You, you must sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day for you."
She nodded again, hardly reassured. He went to close the shutters, looked at her again, left the candlestick on the chest and walked out.
Once the door was closed, both brothers talked more freely.
"You think it was Grisval?"
"Corentin..." He didn't even have to say more.
"I know. Let's find that hunter, if only to have a long talk with him."
Joan put her arm on her forefront. She wanted to get up and snuff out that candle but felt too weak to do anything. Her nerves had her chuckling.
Of course the humans were not so easily fooled. It was only a matter of time and yet, this felt so meaningless now. All she could really think of was how, in spite of that, she still remained idle in this room while the curse ran free.
For now, she decided, for now the best course of action was trust that the humans would kill him. If they couldn't, at dawn, she would act.
Her human hands looked so harmless.
She felt ashamed, or more than that, as she had betrayed herself. To take the curse but not spread it, once a wolf it had sounded so reasonable. Not a day later she had already broken that resolve, all because she was so weak-willed.
Pathetic.
And so the werewolf winced a bit, thinking it might have been why Char had not looked at her anymore.