The First Queen: A Shifter Romance

by K. M. Carnoky

  He still held me close to him, so close that I could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest while he looked at the mirror with pride. It was like he didn't see the small stream of blood trickling down the corner of his mouth, my open wound, or my pale face.

  “What did you do?” I panted. I felt like I was choking.

  “I made you mine. All mine,” he whispered proudly in my ear.

  “Get out.”

  “Willow—” Confusion was clear on his face.

  “Get out.” I repeated, tears already streaming down my cheeks.

  I had failed.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Tell me what happened,” James whispered to me as we walked to the stables. He was so quiet that I could barely hear his voice over the crunching gravel beneath our feet as his eyes roved around the courtyard, making sure no one else was within range.

  It was the morning after my second werewolf bite. I knew all of the staff had heard my screams and sobs, and all of them knew what a terrible mood the king was in. And regardless of the passage of time, everything still felt very raw and fresh, including the wound on my neck. Everyone wanted to know what happened to me, but no one else had been brave enough to ask, and I would be lying if I said I felt particularly forthcoming about the topic. I didn’t want to admit my failure, and I still couldn’t believe that a few gentle touches had crippled me so easily. Besides, there was fairly telling evidence on the side of my throat.

  “There's nothing to tell,” I replied.

  “Did he hurt you?” James continued, clearly disregarding my desire for silence.

  “I am not discussing this with you,” I snapped back.

  James grabbed my arm, stopping me midstep in the gardens I loved so much. But, today, I was too livid and too hurt to see the beauty in the flowers. How could I have let this happen? I wanted to be strong and independent, to search for the answers I so desperately needed. But here I was.

  “Did he hurt you, Willow?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know,” I admitted, feeling flustered. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I'm married to a creature I don’t even understand,” I continued, feeling tears well in my eyes for the hundredth time. “I thought I was finally connecting with him, starting to understand him, but he attacked me, just like he did the first time, committing some bizarre werewolf ritual to make me his wolf-wife.”

  In an act of indecency, James's sturdy arms wrapped around my body, cradling me to his chest as I began crying. At first, they were angry tears. I was outraged that I had let this happen, not once but twice. And the first time he had done it, I had been left screaming and crying, fearing for my life, yet I was willing to risk it the second time. But then the anger dissolved into grief and fear. I had become so hopeful of what we could be. I had laid my naked body out for him to see and stumbled into his arms when I had been drunk. I believed he could be a good man even after I read that awful diary that explained what werewolves really were and what they were capable of. I had been completely and utterly blinded by love or the wild wolf-spell he had put on me. If he swayed me enough to feel pleasure at his bite, I could only imagine what else he was capable of.

  He took my carefully fabricated hope and crushed it, and I was broken along with it.

  “Oh, Willow. Come now,” James murmured into my hair, rubbing my back sympathetically. “This isn't a bad thing; you just don't understand it yet.”

  “Of course I don’t understand it! No one is willing to explain any of this to me. All I know is that this is how werewolves claim their brides! It's disgusting, and I let it happen, James. I just stood there,” I whimpered. My hands balled themselves up into angry fists, and I desperately wanted to hit something, tired of crying like a weak child. I had once entertained the idea of being a strong queen in the future, but now that seemed impossible while I was falling apart.

  James kept me close to his body, hushing me as he continued to rub my back and stroke my hair in comfort. I know that he had been walking on eggshells because of my husband, but being close to him again made me feel so much better. I felt like I wasn't fighting alone anymore; like someone in the palace cared more about me than the king's orders. Eventually, my sobs were controlled to tearless hiccups, and James was able to put his hand against the small of my back and lead me to a more secluded area, sheltered by a massive apple tree that was just beginning to bloom.

  “I want you to understand that what the king did was not meant to hurt you or scare you. It's a very sacred thing in the werewolf community because it's very emotionally binding,” James soothed, helping me sit down in between the thick roots. Once I was seated, he lowered himself beside me. “You should go to him. I'm sure he would explain everything to you.”

  “He won’t. He hardly ever entertains the idea. I want you to explain it instead. He's hot-headed and impulsive. I now worry for my safety around him,” I confessed, not appreciating that he went right back to defending the man who had injured me twice.

  “I shouldn't have even told you this much.” James raised his hands in surrender. “The king is very clear about his rules with regards to werewolves.”

  I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that. “Of course, you're under some kind of oath that you won't speak about werewolves. But if you won't tell me anything, I will simply continue reading my books until I can form an educated opinion of my own.”

  “Willow, most of those accounts were written by scared humans. They are grossly inaccurate. If that is what you are choosing to base your opinion on, in a few days’ time, you will believe that werewolves turn into sheep with razor sharp teeth that cast spells on rabbits. There is a reason those books are hidden away and not to be read.”

  “They are all I have, James,” I countered, “and as of right now, they don’t seem like false accusations.”

  “It's called ‘marking’,” he blurted, making me stare at him in shock. “What he did to you last night . . . he marked you.”

  I had heard the doctors and the king’s parents say the same word, so I automatically leaned forward, listening intently now.

  “You're right. It is like a marriage between two people, but it's also very different. I know it seems garish because you're human, but it's a very loving gesture. It creates an emotional bond between the two of you, and it shows to other werewolves that you not only have a mate, but that he accepted you. From what I understand, it’s supposed to feel incredible. That’s how he knew the first marking had gone so wrong,” he rambled. His face was slightly pinched like he knew he shouldn't be letting these words tumble out but he couldn't stop himself.

  “I think you're confused. He bit me. And I let him do it,” I whispered.

  “Willow, this is all very complicated and confusing for you. I know that. Maybe you should have someone else explain it to you, someone who understands your side better than I do,” he encouraged, his eyes pleading.

  “Why won't you understand what I'm going through? You work here—in a place filled with them. You should know how I feel just as well as anyone else.” Then my eyes widened with realization and terror. “My God,” I gasped, forcing myself off the ground and onto my feet. “You're one of them, aren't you? Is that why you’re defending him?”

  “Willow, please—”

  “Please leave me be,” I begged. “I don’t want you casting spells on me too.”

  James was much faster than I was, and he was in front of me in seconds. “I know you're scared.” He reached up and held my cheek in his hand, his eyes locked on mine. “But I can't talk about this. Please, go ask the king's parents for advice.”

  I looked up at James, reading his kind features for a long time. His eyes reflected the hurt my words had caused which made me regret them, but his expression was mostly one of concern and compassion. He could very well be a werewolf, but he seemed to be much more human than my husband was.

  “Take me to the king,” I ordered.

  “That might not be such a good idea,” he warned.


  “Do it anyway,” I pressed, looping my arm through his.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I guess he isn't back from his training yet,” James whispered when I forced my way into the king's room. The note of relief in his voice was undeniable.

  I didn't care about his words. It was the first time I had ever seen the king's room, and my eyes flew around the dark walls, gothic bed, massive fire place, and the swords that were crossed above it. It was everything I thought it would be. Dark, cold, and far from cozy. Something I would expect very much from a man who was more animal than human. It seemed that nothing in here was personal; it was all purely functional, and it was born out of the necessity to be extravagant. I absently walked into the room, trailing my fingers over the soft sheets that covered his bed while my attention remained on the desk that was buried beneath papers. I felt like I was entering unmarked territory that I had been dreaming about for so long. Who knew what secrets I could uncover? Maybe I would finally find all of my answers.

  “Queen Willow, we should not be here in the king's room, and if he were to find us here, alone . . .” he trailed off, but I could hear his anxiety across the room, and I understood his implied meaning.

  “You're right; it would be a problem if he caught us in here together. You should leave,” I agreed.

  “Willow, please,” James urged. “There's so much you don't understand about him, but this is not the way to find things out. He’s a very private person.”

  “James, I will be fine. I will find a guard to take me back to my room when I'm ready, but you are right, it wouldn't look good if he found the two of us in his room alone,” I countered.

  James opened and closed his mouth several times, looking like he was trying to have an argument with me but didn’t have a valid case in his mind. Or maybe he just knew how stubborn I was. Finally, he let out a soft sigh and nodded his head. He told me that he would be waiting for me outside of my room and to not take very long as the king didn't appreciate uninvited guests snooping around in his personal quarters. I almost laughed out loud at his comment but told him I would be back to my room in a couple of minutes instead. And once the door was shut, I began roaming around the room freely, discovering the uncharted.

  I knew I was looking for something, but I wasn't entirely sure what. I just wanted to find something that would help me understand my husband better or at least make him more human in my eyes again. I didn't like thinking of my husband as an animal, but I couldn't shake the image of sharp teeth and thick fur from my mind. I was tired of being afraid of him, tired of being kept in the dark. I was his wife; I was supposed to love him, at least a little.

  I poked around his desk, looking for a letter from his parents or a trinket from his first marriage. I looked closely at the objects on the fire place, but they all seemed to come from some kind of military involvement instead of something personal. He had nothing out in the open that didn’t pertain to his duty as king.

  I let out a noise of frustration before I continued on to his bedside tables. That search took nearly no time and bore no fruit, so I decided that the armoire was my last option. It was worth a shot. I became so irritated with my lack of evidence and so angry with my husband and his closed-off ways that I began pulling his shirts and pants out at random, throwing them across the room, on the floor, and on the desk in a fit. I didn't care at all about the hundred pieces of clothing he had. I wanted something that would give me insight to his life, something I knew almost nothing about. I just wanted to understand why this spell had been cast on me, what the bite truly meant, and what would be coming next. I was tired of being ignorant, and I was tired of being afraid.

  Then I heard the king's voice as he dismissed a guard.

  I knew that James hadn't been lying about the king enjoying his privacy, and it was clear that I had not respected that seeing as half his wardrobe was tossed about in his room. At the time, I had validated my actions. Seeing the disaster I had caused just now made me feel reckless and foolish. So, without thinking, I dove onto my stomach, ducking behind the bed. I didn't want the king to be angry at all, and I certainly didn't want him to be angry with me. It seemed hiding was the only option I had. Well, other than jumping out the window. The last time he had been furious, I ended up with a harsh bite, blood loss, and two concerned doctors hovering over my neck. So maybe jumping out the window wasn't such a bad option.

  But the king moved too quickly for me to change my mind.

  I held my breath as the door opened, and I peeked around the foot of the bed, watching my husband saunter in the room. For an instant, I forgot all about the mess.

  He looked like a god more than a king at that moment. His dark hair was tousled like he had been doing some kind of physical work, and the thought made my eyes drift over his whole form. His broad shoulders were slumped in a relaxed manner, and his eyes were half-shut, like he was about to fall asleep as he tugged his shirt over his head, wincing a little as he did so.

  And just like that, I lost my breath. I had never actually seen my husband undressed. I had been splayed out on a bed for him, allowing him to see the most private parts of my body, but I had barely seen him without a jacket on. And now I could see his bare chest, strong shoulders, lean stomach, and the large scar that started just above his collar bone and trailed all the way down the right side of his torso, stopping just above his breeches. It must’ve been the cause of the small flinches and occasional gasps of pain. A wound like that didn’t disappear without lasting effects.

  But while I was fixating on the violent scar and the perfection of his body, he had registered the discord I had caused. His eyes widened with horror. His lips parted with shock. Then he shifted his weight lower, getting into a stance I realized was defensive as he inhaled deeply through his nose. When he exhaled, his brow furrowed, and he relaxed out of his aggressive stance.

  “Willow?” he whispered, uncertain at first. Then he called out again, louder this time. “Willow, come out.”

  I bit my lower lip, not sure if I should listen to him, but then I decided that he would find me anyway, and I would be in bigger trouble. I carefully stood up, feeling my face flame as I thought of how I must looked picking myself up off the floor like a child playing a silly game. It destroyed any regal feelings I had grown and nurtured over the past while.

  I wished I could just jump out of the window now.

  “What are you doing in my room? Who brought you here?” he demanded, quickly pulling his shirt back onto his body.

  “Where was that scar from?” I shot back, ignoring his questions, partly because I wanted to know and partly because I needed to protect James.

  “Why are my clothes everywhere?”

  I sighed and sat down on his bed, gesturing for him to come and sit with me despite the fear that festered in the pit of my stomach. All I could think of was that I was under some kind of spell that made me feel okay with him, but he was really an animal beneath it all. I was just being fooled by the human eyes and the emotional facial expressions. Yet my worry didn't trump the softer feelings that swarmed through me, and I was actually a little content when the king rolled his eyes and sat down beside me. Could it be possible that James was right?

  “Where is that scar from?” I tried again.

  “What are you doing in here?” he shot back. Clearly, he was not going to humor me this time.

  “I was looking for you. And when I didn't find you, I got frustrated,” I replied, holding my chin up. “Now answer my question.”

  “There was a war, Willow. When wars happen, people get injured, and I was no exception,” he said solemnly. “So you threw all of my belongings around the room because you got frustrated? That hardly seems plausible.”

  “Is that the reason why you never take your clothes off? Because of your scar?” I challenged. I knew that ignoring his questions would drive him mad, but being in charge took away from my discomfort. Hiding behind harsh words was the most familiar thing I could cl
ing to.

  He turned to me. Those dark eyes searched my face with such intensity, it made me squirm a little. It felt like he could see into my soul with how closely he was examining me. I wished I had never been bold at all.

  “It's part of it.” Honesty rang in every word.

  “What are the other parts of it?”

  “You weren't ready.”

  “I wasn't ready to see you shirtless?” I scoffed. “Is there some weird werewolf law that allows you to see me naked but I can’t?”

  “No, that's not what I meant.” The king let out an exasperated sigh but kept his gaze trained on me. “After I tried to mark you the first time and your body rejected it, the doctors told me how weak you were. But you are my mate, and all I wanted to do was complete our marriage. Keeping my clothes on helped keep me grounded; reminded me that I couldn't risk that. If your body couldn't handle the mark, I couldn't imagine what a potential pregnancy would do to it,” he ranted, almost looking like he was talking to himself.

  I watched as his eyes shifted. The challenge was gone, and the constant tension in his shoulders ebbed away.

  “What is a ‘mate’? And why am I your mate? You have hardly explained any of this to me,” I demanded, a small amount of frustration rising. “And I thought we already completed our marriage. I've been naked with you; how much more do you need?”

  King Archer sighed, and I thought that he would tell me that today was not the day for this kind of discussion, but his eyes drifted down my body and fell into my lap where he watched his hand cradle mine. His tanned fingers toyed with the giant stone on my wedding ring. The gesture was so unexpected—so unlike anything that he had done before—that I held my breath, almost wondering if it was actually real or not. Or maybe the bite was affecting him too.