When I was fifteen, a disease plagued the poorer and destitute parts of Wolvendom. Father thought it would be good if I came with to see the people. That they would get to see me and know who their future queen was.
Or, at least, that was what he told me.
In truth, Father wanted me to see them, and understand the repercussions of his mistake in overlooking the cities himself, having handed their welfare over to a member of a council who thought it would be better to fill up his coffers than attend to the needs of the people.
He was executed the moment we returned, but it did nothing to recover what had been lost.
I got taken by rebels that day. I had gotten separated from my father's entourage when an angry mob--relatives of the sick and dead--attacked us.
They took me and stripped me of all of my belongings, but it was the least of my worries, having found myself in a place I knew nothing about, surrounded by men, women and children who were either ill or dead. I was held hostage at a burial site for four days, watching them count their losses, mourn their children and bury them.
The stench of rotting corpses didn't leave my nostrils for months and it took just as long before I could sleep peacefully at night.
They held me, threatening my parents that they would end my life if they didn't provide a cure in three days.
They weren't bad people. They didn't restrain me. They fed me, warmed me at night, and drew me warm baths. But they never spoke to me. Not even when I tried to speak to them. I tried to get them to feel comfortable with me. I promised them my father would find a cure. I promised them everything would be fine when my father returned.
It wasn't enough to get them to be receptive, but the leader's daughter, Nova, she had warmed up to me after I shared my meal with her the second day.
She was five, tiny and sick. But her smile was the brightest thing ever. She was the reason why they had resorted to taking me. She hadn't much time left.
On the third day, father didn't come. Nova was dying, and she wouldn't let anyone else hold her, except me. Not even her mother. She was crying, and turning purple with pain.
When father didn't turn up with the cure and Nova reached the final stage of the plague, her mother knew there was no saving her anymore. She wouldn't last the night, and it would be a slow, painful death.
Nova's small fingers wouldn't unlatch from mine, and she wouldn't let her mother take her from me. Somehow, her mind must have understood what her mother had decided.
To give her poison. It would numb the pain and make her fall into a deep slumber she would never wake up from. It was a small mercy, compared to the death the plague bestowed.
And because Nova wouldn't leave me, they made me do it.
And when father returned on the fourth day with the cure and his guards, they had found me rocking a dead child back and forth, refusing to let her go as well. Hating and cursing myself for taking a life so precious, even if it was the only thing I could do to make it better.
Something about that incident instilled a fear in me that I never recovered from, and I have been very intentional about taking contraceptives since then.
It's not that I don't want to have children. I want to, when I'm ready. When thinking of children doesn't make Nova's memory resurface.
This, however, is the worst dilemma I have had in my life, and it doesn't make it any better that the father of this child is a fucking bastard who wouldn't even give a damn if he found out about this.
Swearing Dr. Lyris into secrecy yesterday was no small thing. If she tells my parents, they'll take me back to Lycanthia, and the last thing I want is Rune taking me back because of this. Like he is doing me a fucking favour.
The pain of staying away gnaws at me, consuming me from the inside out, but I will never return to that place.
Sighing, I pull the covers closer, seeking comfort. Should I keep the child or terminate this life growing inside me?
Raising the child alone would bring shame upon my family name, although I know my parents would accept it. But I'm not sure I could live with myself if I were to get rid of it.
I shut my swollen eyes, muttering a prayer to the Goddess to help me, because I don't know what to do.
A knock interrupts my thoughts, and I bury my face deeper into the covers to shield myself from the intrusive sunlight. "Go away, Boris. No walks in the garden today."
Boris's deep voice penetrates the muffled door, and he replies, "Your father has requested your presence, princess."
I sit up abruptly, the covers falling away. That's the first time in weeks. Did Lyris tell them? Oh no. "Come inside."
The door creaks open, and Boris peeks in, his face turning a deep shade of crimson when he realizes I'm only in my chemise. "Why--any idea why father's calling for me?"
He blinks and straightens, seeming to catch himself. He mutters a few things along the lines of, "found within the borders," but it is muffled and I can hardly make out what he is saying.
"Who?"
"Prince Rune. He's here."
His words hit me like a rock sinking into a pool, and dread floods through my veins, quickening my pulse. "What?"
"He was discovered within our borders this morning, causing quite a commotion. It seems he has agreed to your father's terms, and..."
I'm out of bed before he finishes his sentence. Dressing is the last thing on my mind. I grab my longest robe, slipping it on hastily and cinching the ties tightly around my waist.
This can't be right. Rune would never submit to my father, never apologize for what he has done. It must be some sick ploy to manipulate my father into altering the treaty. Why else would he come here?
Certainly not for me.
Surely, father won't have me return with him, because I won't. I'm never going back.
The maids in the hallway seem unusually animated, their whispers reaching my ears as they pass by.
"He is breathtaking!" one of them squeals. "His eyes are like precious gemstones, and his hair is more radiant than the moon!"
"Lower your voice!" her companion scolds. "You really shouldn't speak of the Princess's mate that way."
The third maid giggles, playfully smacking the second with a long brush. "You're hardly one to talk. Everyone knows you were in the weapons cellar with him during the last Solstice. Tell us, how did it feel to have the Lycan Prince's *favour*? I hear Lycan males grow inches larger every year."
Oh, for the sake of the Goddess, this cannot be happening.
Boris clears his throat, causing the group to turn and face him. Fear widens their eyes when they catch sight of me, and they hastily bow, muttering apologies I have no interest in.
I ignore them, striding purposefully the my father's throne room, and for the first time in a month, Sloan wakes up, uttering the word I have come to hate. Mate.
Hell no.
Boris rushes ahead of me, sensing the brewing storm with each step I take toward the grand doors. Announcing my arrival, he swings them open.
Every conversation halts, and a silence descends upon the hall as I enter. I pause as well, for at the center of the room, with his back turned to me, stands Rune.
My nostrils flare, and a growl escapes my throat. I'm not sure what I expected, but it isn't Rune turning around with a sensual smirk lifting his full, firm lips.
"You," I say, walking past the gaping council members. Yeah. It's not everyday you see an angry princess in robes, kohl stained eyes and messy, frizzy hair storming into the Alpha's throne room.
"Astrid, my dear," Mother begins, stepping down from the dais quickly, sensing that if I get any closer, I may rip Rune's heart from his chest.
"Why is he here?!" I scream and my voice cracks mid-sentence. I can't do this. He shouldn't be here. He cannot be here smiling at me like he hasn't put me through hell in the last month.
Mother hurries over, but Rune reaches me first. He blocks my path, peering down at me with twinkling eyes. "I came for you."
My anger intensifies, causing me to tremble visibly. "Bullshit. Get the hell out of my home. You're not welcome here."
His fingers rise to cup my cheek, and the contact sends a jolt through my body. Hissing, I step out of his reach, and he grins, a self-satisfied male expression settling upon his features. "Your father seems to think otherwise."
My gaze shifts from Rune to my father, confusion knitting my brow. "What is he talking about, Dad?"
Father avoids my gaze, his adorned fingers drumming against the armrest of his throne. "New terms have been proposed for a revised treaty. Pending agreement, the Prince will stay here, as our guest."
Disbelief escapes me in a small sound. "You're throwing me under the bus? After everything?! Whatever happened to the set conditions? How can he just walk in here like he owns the place and you accept him like he didn't--" I bite back the last word, refraining from revealing my anguish in front of the court.
Father's eyes soften. "This is for your own good, Astrid."
Suppressing the painful lump in my throat, I raise my head high. "I will not return to that place, Father."
Rune's fingers grasp mine and he raises it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. A shiver runs down my spine and it is all I can do not to hurl him across the room. "I am here to convince you otherwise, wife."