Kier
The wolf, mortally injured, releases a baying sound that was part anger and part fear. He couldn’t be older than nineteen, his big brown eyes pleading as I stalk closer, my blade dragging off the floor. My heart bleeds for this; for what I have to do, but it wouldn’t be my first kill today. Or in the last couple of hours.
“Kier,” Randale says behind me, and I lift my hand. He quietens, and the ragged breaths of the boy fills the forests as fur transforms to skin and paws, feet. Blood trickles from a large gash under his rib and another from his broken shoulder.
He’d run. I told him not to. Zephyr gets excited when they run.
I take one step forward and the boy crawls back with his good arm, his mangled feet dangling loosely after him. “Please,” he tries to say, but the only thing that leaves his mouth is hoarse cry.
“He’s just a child,” Randale pleads behind me and I ignore him, not because I do not feel sympathy, but because nothing can quelch the rage in my blood. He might be a child, but he wouldn’t have hesitated to sink his claws into Jessamine had I not caught him before he could make it over the window. I lost three guards to the fucker, and if I’d been even a second late, he would have succeeded in getting into my chambers and killed a sleeping, unarmed woman.
Just a child? No. All I see, all Zephyr sees is a threat that must be eliminated.
I expected the council’s move, but I didn’t think it would begin this quickly. Their rebellion, the clash, the division of my court. They say I’ve gone rogue. They plot treason. They spread poison amongst my people. They say I have become the tyrant my father was. They speak of putting me down, but they cannot, because Moira doesn’t have my child. I cannot be replaced without an heir.
And then, their treacherous whispers reached my ears. Kill the Alpha and hold his mate until she bears his child. Let the Luna raise my child with Jessamine as hers.
They’re all fucked. I’d begin cutting them down, but killing more than half of the Alphas and Elders on my council paints a certain image. Not that I care for that anymore. The moment I stopped giving a fuck, I stopped giving a fuck. I refrain from giving in to the bloodlust for one reason. I do not want Jessamine’s time as my Luna to be marred by bloodshed. I do not want our reign to be one cultivated with fear and the bodies of my own people.
They’d love her, if they just gave her a fucking chance. I’ll buy her that chance, snatch it if I need to.
I crouch a measured distance away from the boy. “I promise to make it quick if you give me a name. You understand why I must do this, yes?”
Tears, snout and blood streak down his pale skin, and the pungent stench of urine tickles my nostrils. “I—I need…ed…money…mother sick…dying…” A raucous cough. “…rogue attack…wound…infection…” His eyes swim with tears. “I…sorry…”
Randale exhales softly behind me, cussing again. He’s been doing that a lot recently, but he has not judged me or questioned my choices. That could also be because I told him there was a dungeon with his name on it if he ever made Jessamine feel uncomfortable. “Your mother, where does she live?”
Surprise shine in teary brown eyes, and then, an immediate spark of fear. He thinks I will kill her as well. “Please…no…did nothing!”
Humans, werewolves, we’re all hypocritical beings. We tend to dish out things we cannot take. Here, he has the nerve to use his dying moments to scream at me, claiming his mother’s innocence, but he was going to kill an equally innocent woman, deeming her expendable because he had no relation to her. I peer at him and all I feel is cold anger. “Which member of my council paid you to harm my mate? Should you not provide me an answer, I will find your mother when I am done here and—”
“Alpha Zuri!” the boy howls.
“Idiot,” Randale spits angrily at him. “Fucking idiot.”
Lord Zuri and I may have our differences on some days, but he is quite fond of Jessamine. It’s a rather foolish lie to tell. A lie intended to plant a seed of distrust and discord. “Did Asher tell you to say that to me if you got caught? Did he tell you he would take care of your family if you didn’t return?” He begins to cry and I have my answer.
My grip tightens on my sword and I tell him, “Your family will be taken care of,” before I plunge the blade in his chest.
“Will you kill Asher?” Randale asks an hour later as we trudge through the woods, circling back to the castle. “He was a valuable ally, and I hear Serin has no interest in being Alpha after him. A headless pack of wolves is a chaotic one.”
Serin is a distant cousin of Moira’s, whose reputation with women and taverns precedes him. I’ve met him a handful of times to know he has no interest in ruling. I bite back a growl at the thought of him on my council in place of Asher. Change is sometimes repulsive. “Serin will learn, the same way I did.” Something scratches softly against the walls of my mind and I muse at Nyx’s odd way of saying, ‘hello’, while she taunts Zephyr with conversations I can’t hear. I focus my gaze on Randale, whose lips are drawn tightly. "I need to force Asher's hand into openly committing treason."
"He's not that stupid," Randale says, but there's no refusal in his voice. "But I suppose you have aready have a plan?"
I start to respond to him when I notice the group of guards loitering in sight as we reach the gates. They are huddled together, their backs turned to us. I increase my pace, a numbing fear creeping up my spine, and Randale matches my hurried steps.
“What is…”
The men stiffen, and the captain of the watch guard rushes forward, his head bowing. “Alpha—you said not to let anyone in, but he suddenly appeared, bearing a message from the Rogue King and—”
I push him aside, tearing through the crowd to find this message, and I halt at the figure hunched on the ground, barely breathing. A sharp cry escapes my lips and I fall to my knees, an inexplicable emotion devouring me at the sight of the familiar male. “Lloyd.”
**************
Nymeria
I really shouldn’t be wandering about this mad house, but no one cares for the cravings of a pregnant woman, not enough to fetch me some snacks at least. The maids are such unruly creatures, having the audacity to disobey a princess on the whim of a Luna whose power is crumbling.
Savage rascals. This place lacks the order that Dawn has. Everyone seems to have an opinion and the boldness to voice it. Had it been my father whose authority was challenged—I scoff at the thought. It couldn’t be. There’s a reason he attends his council meetings with a crossbow.
As far as I know, he’s only used it once, but that one time was more than enough to send the message across.
I suppose it’s a good thing Jessamine and the pretty King have too much on their plate to bother with me. I don’t doubt that my insane sister would throw me out of here the moment she got a chance to, and I’ll be back to being homeless, lost in the terrible cold. I’d run away from home again when Reagan ratted me out, the old fool. He told my father just how I’d threatened to kill his daughter if he didn’t provide me with a tonic that worked to get rid of this awful thing in my belly.
I wasn’t really going to kill the girl. I was just desperate. Having father ask me casually in the middle of dinner who the child’s father was…He didn’t even bother sending his men after me when I ran from the hall, grabbed a few things and fled the castle. He knows I can only survive for so long without my princess privileges. He knows I’ll come home, eventually.
Rounding the corner, I pass by a statue of the Moon Goddess, and I give it the middle finger. Stupid deities screwing up my life.
I reach the kitchen and I’m lucky to find a few untouched sweets and pastries. I borrow them, and begin hurrying back to my room, but…I think I may have taken the wrong hallway, because I don’t recognize this path.
Clutches my goodies to my chest, I try to retrace my steps back to my room, and when I’m unsuccessful at that, I resolve for finding a guard to show it to me. My search for one leads me, however, to the third floor, and my ears perk at the sound of silent conversation.
A deep voice murmurs with a softness that causes the hair on my skin to rise. “I missed you. Every day, and I’m sorry for causing your suffering.”
I peer into the hallway and find the pretty King standing before an open door, alone, his eyes filled with more emotion than I’ve seen in them seen I’ve arrived here. I cock my head curiously. Who? I grin at the thought forming in my mind. Of course, he’s a triple-timer. My sister is in his chambers, his wife is in hers, and he’s up here, with another woman. There’s not a man who exists that is completely righteous.
Practically grinning from ear to ear on my findings, I remain hidden as I contemplate how to deliver this news to Jessamine, just to see the look on her face. But…I need to know what new woman he’s speaking to. I need to enter that room.
I poke my head out again, just in time to hear King Kier say, “When you wish to speak of it, I’ll be here. Always.”
The King shuts the door and he leans his forehead against it, sighing softly as his palm remains on the oak. Even from here, I can feel the tension crackling through him. Must be someone really important. After a moment of seemingly collecting himself, he strides down the opposite direction. I listen for the heavy thud of his boots, and when I can hear them no more, I slink out of my hiding place, headed straight for the door.
I wait outside for a moment, reeling in my excitement, and I reach for the door knob, twisting it. The first thing that hits me is the stench of blood and burned skin, and I’m too far in to take a step back.
I manage all of one more foot into the room before something snatches me, slamming me so hard against the wall, my pilfering skitters across the floor. The room is too dark to see into and the body before me is too tall, too large to be a female, the scent too masculine and bloody. “Did he send you to finish me off?” A hoarse voice rasps against my ears, a hand pressing against my throat, squeezing so hard, blood rushes to my head.
“Let me go,” I demand, pushing against him, but he doesn’t budge. His hands roam my body, in search of something, and I lean down, biting down on his hard when he touches my breasts. He drops me abruptly, snarling with displeasure, and the sound is more animal than man.
My rump hits the floor and I gasp for air, feeling for my throat. Oh, thank fuck, I still have a neck. It’s not broken, and I can breathe. I can breathe—I glare up. “What the fuck is wrong with you—”
Words die in my throat at the sight of hollow green eyes peering down at me with predatory focus. “I know you,” I say, but there is no recognition in his eyes. None. He stares at me like I am a threat. Like if I fucking move wrong, he’ll…eat me. I know him, because he’s the idiot who threw me into the dungeons beneath this castle years ago, even as I’d pleaded with him and said I wasn’t a rogue.
He is the Gamma here, and though he doesn’t seem to remember me, I could never forget the shit eating grin on his face as he told me that day, “If you’re the princess of Dawn, then I’m the Sun Goddess’s mate.”
But he doesn’t look like that man anymore. Gone is the gorgeous blonde who was a walking wet dream. Something’s happened to him since I last saw him. He’s like a husk, and nothing ‘living’ resides in those green eyes. I might have as well been looking at a corpse.
His nostril flares, and his gaze drops to my pastries on the floor. With a lurch, he drops to the floor, picking the broken pieces and shoving it into his mouth, as well as the crumbs.
“That’s mine!” I yell, pushing him. “I walked a damn long time to find those and they’re the last in the miserable kitchen!”
The Gamma bares his teeth at me and I blanch, falling back. “Sure, you can have them.”
I watch him devour the food, and as he turns to pick another broken piece of cake, I swallow a gasp at the sight of his back. It’s covered in a crisscross of lashes and burns, some of which have healed over and gotten burned again. There are bandages scattered across, like the physician didn’t quite know where to place them, and even those are already stained with blood.
One angry burn in particular rises up the apex of his neck, disappearing into the mass of disheveled blonde hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in months.
Bile rises in my throat and I tear my eyes off his battered back, breathing hard and fast. I don’t realize he is speaking to me until he repeats his question very slowly, like he hasn’t used his words in a long time. “How…far into the…winter are we?”
The seasons are different in Dawn and Neredia. Winter only just began back home, but judging from the heaps of snow outside, and the warmth that lingers in the air here, making it easier to breathe without feeling like my lungs are dying, spring must be a few days away. I tell him so.
His eyes seem to flicker for the briefest of moments, but then they suddenly settle on me. “You smell…sweet.”
I roll my eyes and point at the floor. “If you want more of that, just say so, and maybe try eating off a plate next time.”
The Gamma doesn’t seem to mind the jab. He just stares at me with open curiosity. “Maternal…” His voice drifts off, and the next second, his nose is on my skin, sniffing deeply. He purrs softly. “Pup.” And like a child, he glances at my stomach and prods it with a finger, snatching his hand back when something…kicks.
It startles me. I hate it when that happens. It reminds me of Him. Of…Sylvan. Atticus. I stumble back, ready to flee from his room, but the male whispers silently. “What…is…your name?”
“Nymeria.” And I have no idea why I add, “Yours?”
“I…don’t…remember.”