The First Queen: A Shifter Romance

by K. M. Carnoky

  “How was your evening, wife?” Archer demanded from his plush chair. He was spread across it casually and lazily. It felt like he was mocking me with his comfort.

  I didn't flinch. I didn't raise my eyes. I just took slow, even breaths in an effort to calm myself. I would not cry weakly here. If I was to be sentenced to death, I would take my punishment as bravely as possible, even if I didn't understand it.

  “This is very similar to the first time we met,” the king continued with a mean chuckle. “You refused to look at me or speak to me then too. I was a fool for thinking that your meekness would have made you a good slave, a good wife, and a good mate.”

  I couldn't help but flinch now. I didn't see exactly how many other people were in the room, but I knew there had to be at least fifteen. I whimpered softly when I thought of the night that my husband explained that he would never tell anyone about my past because I was a queen and I should be treated as nothing other than one. It had been so sweet and tender. The opposite of everything he was now.

  “I thought one awful wife was enough for a lifetime, but it appears I was blessed with two. I was such a fool for falling in love with the second one.”

  The door I had come through let out a massive groan as it was forced open again and sounds of a struggle filled the room. Oh god, not Andrew. I bit my lip hard, thinking that this would not only be the end for me but also for the man who tried to save me in his own way. The innocent man I had accidently dragged into this mess would face the same fate that I would, and that nearly made me sob out loud.

  “This is no way to treat a queen!” someone shouted, the voice distinctly female.

  My head snapped around as I recognized the voice, but it was certainly not Andrew's. And there, being dragged into the throne room by two large guards, was a woman I knew very well. I knew her smooth musical voice and her enticing green eyes. Her long brown hair had been covered by a hood a couple times when I had met her, but now it was pulled up in an elegant bun with several gems poking out of it. And her graceful body was covered in one of my favorite dresses. On her hand was my wedding ring.

  “Ella?” I gasped. “My god, you're alive, but how?” I sputtered, not believing my eyes. I didn't know what to think or what else to say.

  The two guards forced Ella to her knees beside me, but she attempted to jostle them off violently while they bound her delicate hands together. The determination I had sensed in her earlier was stronger and braver than I had ever thought possible. She was no longer the scared woman who was helping me leave in the middle of the night. She was acting like she was ready for a war she couldn’t lose.

  “Oh good. It seems you already know each other,” the king muttered, watching us both intently.

  “Why am I here?” Ella snapped. “Why am I being treated the same way as the witch who tried to kill you with poison? You know I have nothing to do with this!” She was seething. Her chest was rising and falling with hard breaths, and her eyes were flashing with determination.

  But, all I felt was confusion. How had she gotten here when she hadn't met me in Riverstead? Why wasn't she delighted to see me? Didn't she think I died? And why on Earth was she calling herself the queen and wearing my jewels if she thought my husband was going to kill her on sight? And why did everyone on god's earth think I was a witch?

  “I have returned to you to be your wife now that my father has passed, and this is how you repay me?!” she shrieked at Archer. “By treating me like I am the worthless slave.”

  It took all my strength to not shout back at Ella as I tried to wrap my mind around the things that she was saying and what they meant in terms of her being here with me. My eyes moved to my husband who had gotten up from his chair and was strolling towards us. He didn't quite look bored nor was he fully engaged either. It was like myself and his previous wife were a puzzle that he would piece together on his own time. A part of me wished he was furious at Ella for saying such things about me, but I squelched those thoughts quickly.

  “My, those are strong words, Ella,” the king chided, slowly crouching in front of her. “Claiming that you’re the queen again and suggesting that I actually wanted you as my wife again.”

  “I have nothing to do with this. She's the one who has been poisoning you,” she snarled out of her perfect teeth, quickly changing the subject.

  “That may be true, but you are involved somehow,” the king murmured.

  “You have no proof.”

  “Actually,” the king slowly retrieved a wad of cloth from the inside of his jacket. With gentle fingers, he pulled back the cotton until I saw the intricate silver blade. “I have the dagger your father tried to kill me with, and I think that's plenty of proof.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  “I must've lost it. She must've found it. This still has nothing to do w—”

  “Willow,” Archer interrupted, turning to me instead. He placed the silver dagger in front of my knees. If my hands had been tied in front of me, it would've been just within reach. “I want you to tell me where you got this dagger and when.”

  “From Ella,” I confessed. “She gave it to me the night I stole Cleopatra and ran away.”

  “She's lying!” Ella growled out. I could almost feel the rage rolling off of her from where I was kneeling, and I would be lying if I claimed to be anything other than scared of her right now. She was nothing but a tyrant, and I could so easily see what I had been blind to for so long. She had never wanted to be my friend. She was only after my kingdom and my husband.

  And I had been foolish enough to almost let her have it.

  “Did she tell you what it was for?”

  “She said it was the most certain weapon to use against a werewolf. She said that silver burns werewolves.” Though I had become afraid of her, I would not lie to save her, not after she had called me a slave and lied to my husband.

  “And did she tell you that her father used it to try and murder me just days after she left me?” Archer asked sweetly, his voice not matching the words that left his lips.

  “No.” My eyes darted to the woman on my right who was glaring at me like she wished she could murder me right there and then. I didn't doubt her intent or her capabilities for a moment. I was just thankful she was tied up and Archer was between us.

  “She's a witch! She's lying!” Ella screamed. “You know that I left because I loved you, and I knew my father was going to kill you. I ran away in the hopes that he wouldn't lay his hands on you, and I'm deeply sorry that I failed. But, now, he is dead, and we can be together, yet you're choosing her over me. That is absurd, Archer.” Her voice softened towards the end, sounding more hurt than angry.

  Archer sighed and straightened his legs. Those eyes that had looked relatively uninterested were now swimming with several emotions that I couldn't read. I wished I knew what he was thinking because I didn't know what to think for myself at this point. Her words did not line up with the stories Archer had told me. Unfortunately, they had both hurt me, and I no longer knew who to trust. But the king just turned his back to me and walked towards the throne once more, his boots hitting the wood floor, filling the silence.

  The woman who had turned me against my husband, the one who told me that Archer would murder me was now lying to my husband. And she did this while wearing my wedding ring and my dress. It made my blood boil and my heart break all at once. I just stayed kneeling, feeling numb.

  “Alright, Ella,” he said as he sat down, “I would like you to tell me your side of the story.”

  Ella opened her mouth to speak, but those massive doors let out yet another groan and shouts filled the air. Her façade of a loving and concerned wife fell away as her lips twisted up into a wicked smile of victory. It sounded like hundreds of boots were trampling towards us, but I was unable to see.

  Archer's terrified expression told me everything.

  “Guards!” Archer shouted, causing some of the men around the room to immediately draw their swords. The others dropp
ed to their knees, grunting and groaning as their bodies contorted madly. I could only watch in shock and horror as they transitioned from being completely human to being entirely beast. Ironically, I was now less afraid of the massive beasts than I was of the human men who stormed in the palace.

  It was too late. The throne room was suddenly filled with men. Some of them wore clothing suitable for fine lords; others looked like beggars that had been pulled off the streets. But all of them were angry and bloodthirsty. It was like a stampede of wild animals. The men charged in with their swords exposed and held high, their eyes locked on my husband or the guards who moved to protect him. I screamed in horror but was unable to move due to the bindings that surrounded my wrists and ankles. I used all my strength to pull and tug against the ropes, but they refused to give.

  “Murder him! Murder the beast!” Ella shouted from beside me, her voice full of loathing.

  “What?” I gasped, stunned entirely. “Why? Why would you do this to the man you love?” I asked. “He’s your mate.”

  An old man darted towards Ella, the rest of the fighting seemingly irrelevant to him. He dove to his knees and quickly began sawing at the rope that kept Ella subdued.

  “He is not my mate, you fool. I could never love a vile animal like him. They all deserve to die,” she seethed. The man cut through the last strand that kept her legs together, but before she stood, she lunged for the dagger that was resting in front of me. “Thank you, father,” she said with a wicked gleam in her eye. I was already forgotten, still stranded while she was free. “Matthew!” she shouted, like she was calling an obedient dog.

  And with a dagger in her hand, she leapt to her feet and raced towards one of the guards. But instead of attacking her, the guard took the dagger out of her hands and plunged it into another uniformed guard, badly wounding one of his comrades. I recognized the attacking guard as Archer’s right hand, his most trusted confidant. The man who Archer had relied on unconditionally was going to be his downfall.

  And I could only watch.

  I was jostled about as bodies moved in deadly dances around me, dumbstruck by what I had just seen and what I was currently witnessing: men with swords sparring against beasts who had razor sharp teeth and marvelous claws. The carnage that was ensuing was immense. The entire ballroom was filled with screams, grunts, and the sounds of metal clashing on metal. It was a wild whirlwind of bodies falling, boots skidding against the floor, and blades being swung.

  My friends, the guards who laughed with me and chatted softly about my day before I ran away, were being attacked by these men. They fought the outsiders that had no right to be in the palace. People I had come to love—even if they had abandoned me—were dying all around me, and I was left on my knees in the middle of the room, completely helpless.

  Until Andrew appeared sporting a guards uniform. He was healthy and clean, not looking like someone who had spent weeks in a dungeon.

  “Andrew, my god. He didn't kill you?” I gasped.

  Andrew didn't answer. His sharp blade hacked at the rough rope that kept me bound. He knelt on the floor with me until it gave out.

  “Run. Get out of here,” Andrew ordered. He spun around just as another man in uniform—Matthew—moved towards us to stab him. There was a clash of metal, and Matthew fell backwards, temporarily taken care of. “Now, Willow!”

  I scrambled to my feet, his sharp orders dragging me out of my trance. I forced myself to move to avoid being jabbed with the sharp swords and to keep out of the way of pairs who were focused on each other and nothing else. But the large doors I had come through were blocked by hoards of men clashing against one another, and there was no other escape. I glanced around, desperate for cover despite the fact that it was clear that no one was coming after me. At least not yet. Unfortunately, the only cover available was a tapestry that hung from the crown molding. Though it made me feel like a coward, I quickly dove behind it. I wanted to keep my body behind it, to stay completely hidden, but something inside me forced me to peer around the fabric.

  I did nothing but watch.

  Human men lunged at wolves and drove their long swords deep into their sides and limbs in the hopes of a fatal hit. Some wolves fell and died immediately, other whimpered and attempted to drag themselves away before another blow was delivered. They howled and cried with pain and anguish when they were defeated or hurt. But the wolves who were still able to fight had their jaws clamped down on human arms and legs, biting so savagely I heard the bones break from where I stood before the wails of pain came. The colours of browns, blacks, and whites flew around the room at an inhuman speed, making me dizzy. Those long teeth tore through flesh like it was nothing. Their sharp claws pierced skin easily while their large size and hefty weight made it easy for them to disarm and kill their attackers.

  I wanted to cover my ears to drown out the screaming, but my eyes were still be able to watch the wolves and the men as they took their last breaths. And, even if I was blind and deaf, the smell of blood and metal would still be thick in the air. There was no escaping what was going on around me. It made my stomach twist, and I had to resist the urge to vomit on the floor.

  I was frozen in fear, utterly stricken by shock. But, beyond that, I was completely helpless and powerless. I could not shift into a massive wolf that could tear its enemy to pieces without weapons. I was only a human. But I could not fight with the human men because I had no armor and no sword to defend myself with. If I even attempted to cause a disruption, I would be murdered in seconds and the battle would continue like I hadn't even taken an extra breath.

  But the fight was easing to an end. Human bodies were strewn across the floor, lying in pools of blood that were growing with every second. Some were still barely clinging to life while others had been gone for several minutes now. One man was on his knees, begging for mercy as two wolves circled him, debating his fate. It seemed like no human was left standing if it was not wearing a guard's uniform. However, among them, were several wolves; some of them I felt I knew, others I had never seen before.

  And it was selfish of me, but my eyes searched for a specific wolf, a dark brown one with equally dark eyes, and when I found him on his paws and alive, my heart nearly gave way with relief.

  “Archer,” I breathed, stepping out from behind the tapestry.

  He didn't see me. He wasn't concerned with me. He was looking at his surviving troops and the men who had fallen in an effort to protect him and his kingdom. His brown eyes were dark with sorrow and the remaining panic, like his mind was slowly realizing that the battle was over and some of his comrades would not be returning to him. The attack had been unexpected and unplanned. He was reeling from the shock.

  Movement from behind the throne caught my eye. At first, my misty eyes hardly detected the figure at all, and I had to move closer to get a more certain look through the mass of tears that clouded my eyes. But then I recognized the deep blue gown I had loved and had been saving for a special occasion. Then my eyes moved to the gleaming silver dagger Ella held in her hand. She was crouched down, fully hidden from the remaining wolves and guards, but her eyes were on them.

  “Archer,” I repeated, more desperately this time. My voice was barely above a whisper. My throat was dry and refused to make any more sound.

  I had no other choice. I sprinted towards him, my bare feet hardly making a sound as I moved, unable to attract any attention to me. My filthy night gown caused me to be a neutral sight which simply made me easier to be overlooked despite my speed.

  But Ella was moving just as fast, if not faster than I was, and no one was paying any attention to her either. They were all distraught over the men they had lost and trying to save the ones who were not yet gone. They were too deep into their grief to notice that the danger had not yet left. This battle was not finished. I pushed my body harder, demanded more of my thin legs, and by some miracle, my speed increased ever so slightly. I was now matching pace with Ella, but there were only a few more stride
s between my husband and his ex wife. And her intent was ever so clear now.

  That dagger had not been meant to protect me.

  It was meant to kill my husband, whether by my hand, hers, or her father's.

  “Archer!” I screamed, finally finding my voice.

  His large wolf head swung towards me then detected his sprinting previous wife. He attempted to assess the situation. But it was too late. Neither he nor his men could stop the woman as she lifted the dagger above her head, ready to deliver the killing blow.

  I didn't think. I just lunged in front of my husband, in front of the giant wolf.

  The blade struck me. I could feel the sharpness slice through the back of my shoulder blade and continue down the back side of my ribcage. Hot blood was instantly pouring down my back, soaking my white nightgown.

  I let out a scream as I collapsed to my knees.

  “Willow!” Andrew shouted.

  There was a feral snarl, and I saw two wolves leap into action through my blurry eyes. The previous queen wailed as my head began to spin. The pain was beyond anything I had ever experienced. It was so brutal I didn't scream or cry; I just kneeled on the floor, gasping for breath as the blood poured out of the massive wound. I felt like my brain was softening in my skull as weakness flooded my body. My hands desperately clung to the dark fur of my husband's coat as he whimpered madly, howling and barking.

  My grip loosened on his fur and feebleness took over my strength, forcing me to lay down flat on the blood-covered floor. I didn't know if it was my blood or someone else's, but I didn't care. It felt so much better to not have to hold myself up. The pain was subsiding along with the rest of my senses.