by K.N. Lee
The darkness horrified her. Even back at home with her grandparents, she slept with a burning candle.
Grandmother always told her to stay out of it. Evil creatures lurked where the light did not reach. Tales of shadows and spirits haunted her.
With a heavy sigh, she went to empty bed. The first tears fell then.
While all seemed dark around her, and fear started to creep into the back of her mind, one of the twins climbed into bed with her. It was odd being cramped in that small bed, but something about it felt right and calmed her.
“I’m Magda,” she whispered, her voice sweet and light, like a magical creature from a dream. “What’s your name?”
Elle sniffled, looking into her hazel eyes. “Elle.”
She snuggled close to her and wrapped her small arms around Elle’s body.
It reminded her of her mother, when she was just a small child, before she vanished.
“Shh now, Elle. It’s all right,” she’d said, and Claire nodded, smiling at her from her bed on the other side of the small room. “We must stick together. We’ll take care of you now.”
That was a different time. When life was a little more hopeful. A little less bleak.
With a sigh, she glanced at Claire, who blew her full spoon of chunky porridge, her thin black brows knotted together as she picked out the raspberries.
How she managed to put on a strong face after her sister’s disappearance was a marvel. She refused to talk about it, claiming that her sister had escaped and simply gone home. She just wished her sister had taken her with her.
Elle never said a word against Claire’s reasoning. She let her believe that. If it brought her comfort, what was the harm?
“Drop them into my bowl,” Elle said, giving her a lopsided grin.
Claire shrugged, taking all of the raspberries out of her bowl and placing them into mine. “They’re all yours,” she said. “You get the honor of having tiny seeds in your teeth when the Davidian Clan delegate arrives.”
Scoffing, Elle took a heaping spoonful of the porridge and blew away the steam. “Fine by me. You think I want to be fawned over by a snobbish messenger and carted off to be the crown prince’s toy? No. Not me.”
“But, you claim you want to be free from this place,” Claire said, watching her, and tilting her head.
Elle pursed my lips. She had a point.
“Not like that,” she said, simply, returning to shoveling food into her mouth before the annoying bells began to chime and they’d be marched off to prayer.
“Well,” Claire said, with a shrug. “Suit yourself. All of the girls are primped and ready to meet the delegate. Imagine…being a princess.”
“No, dear,” Elle said, twisting her mouth at the term. “We were born to serve. I doubt anyone who goes to that palace will be considered a princess. They want us to further their line, that is all.”
“You’re such a spoil sport,” Claire said, standing from the table and taking her bowl to sit with another group of young ladies.
Elle watcher her, blinking. Then, she sighed and returned to finishing her meal.
Not a spoil sport. Just honest.
Let the sheep be led astray. She was going to escape. One way or another.
Chapter Three
After breakfast, the bells chimed, and they all stood from their tables and filed out of the chilly dining hall. In a steady procession, Elle and the others made their way to the temple.
As she approached the entrance, a thin hand reached for her from the dark corridor.
Startled, she turned to see Sister Sophia standing there, hooded in her cloak. She left the line and joined her mentor in the corridor, eyes wide with questions.
“This way,” Sister Sophia said.
“But,” Elle paused, hesitant. “I’ll be punished if I miss prayer.”
Sister Sophia knew this.
She nodded, but ushered her forth, nonetheless. “It won’t be long,” she said. “I just need you for a moment.”
Elle frowned, but gave a single nod. As long as they were quick about it.
Sister Sophia led her to an outer chamber, and removed her hood. “Elle,” she said, face flushed. “I have news for you.”
She froze, a knowing ache in her stomach. “My grandparents,” she breathed. “Has something happened to them?”
Sister Sophia shook her head. “No dear. Not that I know of. But, I have heard talk of Father Lewis sending you off to a farmer in the south of Pruth.”
She blanched, throat gone dry.
“What?” Elle almost shouted the question. “How could Father Lewis even consider such a thing? A farmer? Even I know we cost more than a farmer could afford.”
Sister Sophia took her by the shoulders. “The farmer is considered a harvest healer. The Elders deem him fit to produce, and have waived the fee.”
“You cannot be serious,” Elle said, cheeks heating with rage. “What about the delegate from the Davidian Clan?”
Though she’d scoffed at the idea earlier, the idea had greatly increased in desirability.
“Listen, dear. The delegate will arrive before the farmer. It is up to you to charm him and choose your own fate.”
Before she could say another word, the final bells began to chime and Sister Sophia pushed her toward the temple.
“Go, now. Pretend as if all is normal. I’ve made a promise to your family. I will look after you the best I can.”
With that, Elle stumbled into the corridor, and quickened her steps to make it into the temple before the doors were sealed shut and it was noticed that she wasn’t in attendance.
Once she fell into the back of the line, her heart was racing.
Father Lewis would do anything to make her life miserable. What he had against her was a mystery. But, as she entered the main room, her eyes lifted to his as he stood at the top of the platform.
Father Lewis, and the brothers and sisters that looked over them waited, dressed in their ceremonial robes, and hands clasped before their chests. A statue of a Great Wolf stood at the end of the prayer hall, its sleek, stone glittering under traces of sunlight that spilled through the stained glass windows that lined the walls and ceiling.
Elle released a deep sigh, but did as she always did, and followed the line as they broke off into several rows, and bowed to their knees.
Then, they prayed. In her mind, she prayed to be sent anywhere but to the farmer in Pruth. Pruth was a land of darkness and turmoil. War torn.
She wanted to stay as far away from such a place as possible. But, her prayers meant nothing.
The collective chant of those assembled would mute any of her wishes and desires.
“Bring us peace. Bring us prosperity. Keep us safe from evil and harm. Protect us from the serpents.”
They asked this of the great god of winter and fall. Asir, The Great Wolf.
And, with that, their prayers awakened the stone statue. The wolf’s eyes opened, casting a white glow onto those before it.
Something about that always gave Elle chills. One wasn’t supposed to look upon the gods, but she always snuck a peek, glimpsing at the statue as it awakened. From under heavy lashes, she held her breath, and tilted her head to the side for a better look.
The brothers and sisters were also bowed, and the wolf spoke, Asir’s voice bellowing through the mouth of the statue, though he resided in another realm with the other gods.
He gazed upon them, as if judging, and Elle couldn’t help but stare. Of the four gods, he wasn’t the most frightening, but remained one of the most well praised. Back home, her grandmother worshiped Vaun, the fae god, and her grandfather prayed to Asir.
It was a confusing upbringing, to say the least, but neither forced her to choose sides.
Not when she had roots with them both.
“I bless you with peace. Prosperity. No harm or evil will come to you.”
To hear one’s prayers be answered was a beautiful gift.
But, Elle didn’t trust
it. She didn’t trust anyone.
One couldn’t blame her, for the cost of this blessing took more than prayers.
A sacrifice was in order.
All of the girls kept their heads bowed—even as the screams of the season’s sacrifice was carried into the room.
It was deathly quiet.
Deathly still.
The silence of the temple only made her wails of terror all the more bone-chilling.
Not all screamed. Some were resigned to their fate—something Elle couldn’t wrap her mind around. Why did the gods need blood to execute their blessings?
Barbaric. That’s what this was. She was lucky to be untainted by the curse, and ineligible to be chosen as a viable sacrifice.
Still, how could one feel truly safe when they were forced to witness such brutality at the end of every season?
Back home, grandfather would sometimes sacrifice a calf, but that was the extent of it.
This simply seemed unnatural.
She wished she could quietly sneak out, and not have to witness the sacrifice—or better still—to rescue the poor lass and run away together.
She wished a lot of things, but seemed to be deficient of the courage it took to execute such ideals.
Elle had just turned nineteen. She was too young to die.
And so, she kept her head bowed and tried to drown out the screams with her thoughts.
Yes…her thoughts.
Her dreams.
Her head became heavy, as she closed her eyes, slowed her breaths, and focused on the images inside her mind.
Beauty. It awaited. In the form of a white wolf resting on the lush, green grass of a peaceful glen.
She smiled, transported from her body, and living within her mind. It was a gift. A small retreat. Some called her mad. Some, just a young girl with her head in the clouds.
Did they know the truth—that every moment within her dreams…felt real?
It didn’t matter—not as she shed her heavy cloak and tossed it aside. With a cry of glee, she raised her arms and stretched. The sky was a serene blue, without a cloud in sight. Delighted, she ran under the bright rays of the golden sun toward the wolf.
He rolled onto his side as she fell onto the ground beside it.
She peeked one eye his way.
“Hello, little fella,” she said, watching the summer breeze run along the wolf’s thick, white fur. “What a pleasure to see you here today. Are you following me?”
Though she asked the wolf in a playful manner, something changed in its demeanor.
Those bright blue eyes—the color of ice—locked with hers…and four words were spoken that sent chills scurrying up her spine.
“I’m coming for you.”
Elle shrieked. When she opened her eyes, blood pooled around her knees, soaking her gray gown. It was sticky, and warm, making the cloth cling to her legs.
Cheeks paling, she looked around to the others. No one showed much emotion. They were trained not to. They ignored her outburst, as did the brothers and sisters.
The sacrifice was over, and the limp body of the young girl was left to bleed out on the altar.
Elle sucked up her horror, and came to her feet.
It was time to be led away yet again.
Sheep to the slaughter.
But, those words echoed in her mind.
I’m coming for you.
As if this day could get any stranger…
Chapter Four
Etian raced through the forests, his legs swiftly carrying him across the frozen ground. The chill in the air, and the ice beneath his giant paws was nothing.
To him, it was refreshing—welcomed.
To be free to run in his feral form was better than being stuck in the palace, waiting for the next tragedy.
With his brother by his side, they cut through the trees, leaped over fallen logs and dead carcasses left to dry out in the winter wind. In days, they’d arrive to where Alexi was certain the lost heir awaited.
It was a small price to pay to save their mother’s life.
While Drevah and Matthias waited back at the palace, protecting her from further harm, it was Etian and Alexi’s duty to find a cure for the curse that devastated their lands and people.
Children were a rarity. Those who were born had little to look forward to beyond living out their lives in strict loneliness until their dying day. Then, there were the others—the rare female born without the taint, fertile.
They had their own battles to face. Theft of fertile women was rampant…as was murder.
Sacrifice.
If misguided religious zealots didn’t get their hands on the miracle girls, followers of the Serpent would capture them, poison their minds, and send them back out to wreck havoc on their own people. It was an odd era, one that the Davidian Clan was determined to end.
“This way,” Alexi said, abruptly cutting to the right, toward the sound of a rushing river.
He followed, keeping pace so that he wouldn’t outrun his brother. He needed Alexi’s guidance, for his eldest brother had a gift that hadn’t been heard of since the old days, when the gods were at peace with one another.
As they raced through the early dawn, the sun refused to rise, as the thick clouds of gray and purple blocked its golden rays. The call of the wild was stirring, taunting, daring them to hunt.
This time, the hunt was for a particular young woman. She couldn’t be more than twenty years of age.
Born of two rival races, she was the key to everything—not just their mother’s survival—perhaps that of the entire world.
Nations were crumbling to the south as the land grew arid. Crops couldn’t grow. Livestock couldn’t feed. Humans couldn’t thrive.
A horrific cry rumbled through the forest, and they both stopped in the middle of a clearing. The cry resonated for longer than what was humanely possible, and ended with a low growl.
Definitely not a human.
Ready for a fight, they stood back to back, alert, their eyes scanning the darkness for whatever beast made the ground beneath them shake.
His nostrils flared as the scent of something burning wafted through the air. He knew that scent. It was flesh. But, who would dare linger that deep in the woods when tales of evil wisps were far-stretched throughout the realm?
“What is that?” Etian asked through their telepathic connection as clansmen and brothers. The link was strong between them, and their voices were clear within each other’s minds.
For a moment, Alexi was silent, stiff.
Then, his voice invaded Etian’s thoughts in a calm, steady tone.
“Who knows what lurks in these woods,” Alexi said, and with that.
“Right,” Etian said. “Let’s not linger.”
They took off into the forest, pounding the dirt as they flew through the trees as fast as their legs could take them.
No need for a fight. They had bigger things to tend to.
Chapter Five
“Brother Dava, I’ve been having strange dreams,” Elle said, staring down at her clasped hands. She’d left the morning’s sacrifice to do as Father Lewis ordered.
It was time to repent for her sins.
Brother Dava handed her a cup of hot tea. “Tell me about it,” he said in his soothing voice. He reminded her of her grandfather, despite having significantly less hair.
She accepted the cup, breathing in the strong aroma of lavender and honey. The first sip tingled on the tip of her tongue, but its warmth was welcomed. She drank another sip and glanced at the window.
The chirping of the birds outside the tower’s mid-level taunted her when all she wanted was silence. She needed quiet to focus and reclaim that moment in her daydream, and speak to the mysterious, white wolf—to escape the fate Father Lewis had planned out for her.
Those words the wolf had said wouldn’t go away. And, though she was in Brother Dava’s private quarters to confess her sins, she couldn’t help but find it difficult to mention it to one
of the very few people in the world that she didn’t think would harm her.
He cleared his throat and drank from his cup. He held it to his lips, watching her from over the rim of the cup.
She knew what he thought of her—what he probably thought of them all—but he’d been there when Sister Sophia came to claim her from her grandparents. Promises of protection was more than enough to convince them to let her go. Too many young girls had been stolen in their village, and they were too old to put up a fight against gangs of feral men.
Or worse.
To the brothers and sister of the Monastery of the Great Wolf, she was just an item to be bought, groomed, and resold.
But, what they didn’t know, was that there was something wrong with Elle. Something internal that needed to be fixed, or she’d be driven mad.
Despite her knowledge of her own affliction, it was difficult to voice.
“Will you promise not to think I’m insane?”
He gave her a kind smile, tilting his head. “Of course, not, dear girl. Please continue.”
“I saw something in the forest,” Elle said, carefully, watching the older man before her, for a reaction.
He showed none, simply nodding for her to continue.
“What was it?”
“A wolf,” she said, looking up at him with furrowed brows. “But, not just any wolf.”
“A shifter, perhaps?” Brother Dava asked, white brows lifting over his small, deep-set, blue eyes.
She breathed in, shrugging. “I can’t say for sure. But, yes, I do believe so. He stood right outside the gates this morning.”
Then again, it could have all been in her imagination. Father Lewis hadn’t seemed to have witnessed the sighting of the white wolf. Maybe it wasn’t real at all.
The thought saddened her.
He cleared his throat. “You know better than to be that far from the safety of the main buildings of the castle. That was foolish of you.”
“Yes,” she said, smoothing her hair. “I’m well aware of that. Hence the lockdown. I know its my fault.”