A/N – Hi Everyone! Welcome to The Wolf Prince. It's actually the brainchild of Writer-In-The-Making16 who came up with the idea – I just begged her to let me write it :) This story is based on the original 18th century tale by Madame de Villeneuve, with questionable liberties taken by me in the name of poetic licence! So grab your seats people – here we go…!

Based on the tale of La Belle et la Bête by Gabrielle de Villeneuve. All Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Prologue

"We have doomed the wolf not for what it is,
but for what we have deliberately and mistakenly perceived it to be…
the mythologised epitome of the ruthless killer…
which is, in reality no more than a reflexed image of ourself."
~ Farley Mowat

The doors to the massive throne room flung open as the king crossed the floor angrily. The young woman who followed him in fell to her knees as she clutched at his robes, pleading with him. He slapped her hands away roughly and she threw herself onto the floor, crying pitifully in heaving sobs.

"Please father, I beseech you. I love him and he loves me! Let us be."

"How can I?" the old king glared at her, the anger burning in his eyes. "That, that … thing, it's a monster, an abomination. I will not allow it."

"Please, please, I beg of you. Leave us be. Let us go and we will leave the kingdom. You shall neither see nor hear of us ever again."

She had not set out deliberately to love a Child of the Moon. It had just… happened. Their love had grown slowly, and by the time he had confessed his dark secret to her, she had already fallen so deeply for him that it was of no consequence. She loved him and he loved her, and that was all that mattered. That he was a Child of the Moon made no difference to her, but it obviously mattered to the idle brains and wagging tongues that had brought this news to her father. But the man she loved was nothing like the monsters of which the old legends told. Her beloved was kind and gentle, and never once had he raised his voice, let alone his hand, in anger against her. All they had ever wanted was to love and be loved.

She appealed to her father again with pleading eyes, but she could tell his mind was made up. The king had spoken, and the king's word was law.

Old King William looked at his daughter. Like her mother, she was beautiful and proud. And to see her like this, begging on her knees, begging him, broke his heart. In this moment, he was no longer the King of the Quileute Kingdom – he was just a man, a father, trying to make sense of this crazy turn of events. How could this have happened? How could he have allowed this to happen? He loved his daughter, and with his last breath he would protect her. The Children of the Moon were unpredictable, they morphed into giant wolf-like creatures, and they were beholden to the changing moods of that great cold orb in the sky. There was little known about them, and the unknown was to be feared. No, he would not allow such beasts to be near his child.

"Rebecca, you know I cannot," the king said, his heart softening as he looked at the young woman whom he had loved and cared for since the day she had drawn her first breath. It was his responsibility as her father, and as her king, to protect her. And he would do everything in his power to keep her safe, especially from that monster. He tried to brush the wetness from his daughter's tear-stained face, but she turned away from him.

The king drew himself back up and uttered the words that he would live to regret -

"The Children of the Moon are dangerous, Rebecca. I cannot risk it. Already the executioner is sharpening his blade. The prisoner will be escorted out shortly, and then it will be over."

The princess fell down at her father's feet. "No!" she pleaded with him, "Please father, no!" She cried and cried, she begged for his mercy, she pleaded with him again, and when that failed, she begged him to think of her, of what executing the man she loved would do to her, and was he truly so cold that he could bear to hurt his own child that way?

But the king steeled his resolve, and though it almost broke his tired old heart to do it, he turned away from his daughter.

Up to now, Prince Jacob had been standing quietly near where his mother sat, watching his father and sister locked in this battle of wills.

Up to now, he had not spoken. Up to now, he had hoped that commonsense would prevail and the situation would resolve itself without bloodshed. Up to now, he had remained silent.

The king's word was law, and the prince was not yet king and so he would do as a good son must and respect his father's rule. But with the scene now unfolding in front of him, he could no longer hold his tongue. He moved to speak, but Queen Sarah placed her hand on her son's chest in a 'wait' gesture, and instead she spoke:

"Billy, they are in love. He is good to her, and you have had no issue with their relationship before now. He has lived among us for years, and harmed no-one," she reasoned with her husband. "He is a Child of the Moon. So what? He has shown that he is able to live peacefully among us. Do not punish him, nor our daughter, for something that may not come to pass. That his secret is now known to us does not change who he is. He is still the same person that he was yesterday, and the day before that, and he loves our daughter no less now than he did then. Leave them be, my love, and let them go."

As the king listened to his wife's words, he knew that she was right. But his pride would not let him go back on his word. He had decreed the prisoner would be executed, and a king did not take back his pronouncements. He turned to the window, and looked into the courtyard, where the prisoner – he always thought of him as 'the prisoner' because referring to him by name would only bring home the reality of what he had done - would shortly be escorted out to meet his fate.

"It is done, Sarah," he spoke quietly. "What I have decreed cannot be undone. The prisoner will be executed."

The king called out to the guards in the courtyard below – "Bring the prisoner out. Do what must be done, but make it quick and painless."

At his words, the princess broke down and wept even more. But her grieving was cut short as the doors to the great hall flung open. There was a rush of wind, and then there in the centre of the room stood the Great Shaman of the Children of the Moon.

"You foolish old man," the Shaman cried, her eyes blazing in anger. "I waited to see if you would realise the error of your ways. I gave you a chance, but still you have pushed forward with your intolerance and preconceived notions about us. Your prejudices will now be your undoing."

Down in the courtyard, the sound of shouts and clanging weapons made the king look to the window. The Shaman spoke again, drawing the king's attention back to the matter at hand.

"Did you truly think I would let one of our own die at your hands?" The Shaman sneered. She turned to Prince Jacob, seeing his hand was on the grip of his sword. His muscles tensed as he readied himself to draw his weapon.

"There is no need for that, young prince," the Shaman purred menacingly. "As brave and skilled a warrior as you are, if I chose to do so, all in this room would be dead before that sword was even half way out of its scabbard. No, I have come only to rescue he whom your father has unjustly sentenced to death, and" she turned to Rebecca, "if you wish my dear, you may come with me too and escape the unfairness of your father's rule."

The princess shook her head, half in fear, half in disbelief, and too terrified to do anything else. "Very well then," the old woman jibed scornfully, "So stay and pay the price for your king's prejudices."

The Shaman raised her hands and pointed a spindly finger at the king –

"King William - The sins of the father shall be visited upon the son. For the despair your prejudices have caused my people, so shall your son suffer the consequences of your actions."

As everyone turned to look at Prince Jacob, they watched in horror as his body twisted and writhed. He doubled over onto all fours as a transformation began to take place. His body grew larger and larger, as the clothing he wore ruptured and then ripped from his body. The cracking of bones and the snapping sound of muscles and sinew as they lengthened and rearranged themselves echoed eerily throughout the great hall. The prince felt his skin prickle as great tufts of fur broke through it, and then an even stranger sensation as he felt his face lengthen, and then long sharp teeth pressed against the inner edge of his lips. He cried out – except that it was no cry that left his lips, but a deep growl.

The courtiers gasped as the tall, muscular body of their handsome Prince Jacob was gone, and in his place stood a giant russet wolf.

"… And so he shall be cursed," the Shaman laughed as she exited the great hall "to walk the earth with the body of a beast and the soul of a man. This shall his burden be, until love's truth sees the man within the beast."

A series of melancholy howls echoed over the kingdom, and the townspeople cowered in fear as they watched the silhouettes of the Children of the Moon on the horizon, raising their heads to the skies as they wailed their haunting tune.