Beastmora- The Golden Six

by Kayley Behler

  “Good,” Florence said, “We leave in two hours, be in the carriage in an hour and fifty minutes, or we will leave you.”

  ◆◆◆

  Valeria took a look in the mirror, admiring the red dress with a smile. Her mom had picked it out for her. Actually, her mother picked out her whole outfit and tied her hair into an intricate vampiric style before whisking off to dress Henrik. The necklace she always wore around her neck, fit perfectly with the dress. Valeria didn’t mind though, she was grateful not to have to fret over her outfit, and she would admit that it looked awesome on her. The clothing was enchanted to fit the wearer’s body type, this was how all clothes were made. It was simply easier than making loads of different sizes. The vampire paused once her eyes caught sight of the three large scars lining her biceps, and she released a gasp as her fingers touched it lightly. Valeria could still feel the jagged claws digging into her skin and the terrifying feeling of being suspended over thousands of feet.

  Valeria shook her head then looked herself over in the mirror once more before making her way downstairs and to the library where she knew her father was. Just as she suspected, Derik was sitting in a lush black armchair with a book in his hand, and Henrik was sitting in his lap looking up at the ceiling. Her father was wearing a fitted black suit that had metals of war pinned to the right side and on top of his head rested a silver crown with rubies nestled between the Grey crest. Henrik was wearing something similar but without the metals or the crown and the black curls atop his head were tamed for once.

  “Done already?” Derik asked, looking up from his book to gaze at Valeria, and he smiled warmly pride shining in his eyes, “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” Valeria replied, unable to help but grin at her father as she sat down in the chair beside him, “So do you.”

  “Why thank you,” Derik answered, closing his book and setting it aside. Henrik’s head was still lolled back against Derik’s shoulder as he looked up at the ceiling, “Your mom laid out my clothing, and here I am.”

  “What are you looking at, Henrik?” Valeria asked, and her brother pointed up. She followed his finger and fixed her eyes at the moving painting on top of the ceiling, “What is it?”

  “The Grey family history or the memorable parts,” Derik answered, looking up at the moving pictures. The picture displayed vampires with platinum blond hair like her own, fighting in a battle against what looked to be other vampires before an image of her father, clad in glistening blood armor flew across the sky with Thoren.

  “That’s you,” Valeria gasped, tearing her eyes away from the moving painting to her father who smiled sadly up at the images, “Was this the Fae War?”

  “No. That was the Grey Rebellion,” Derik responded, his eyes not straying from the moving figures and Valeria looked back at it.

  “What’s the Grey Rebellion?” Henrik questioned, turning his head to stare at his father

  “That is quite a long story,” Derik responded with a sigh, glancing down at his son and then to Valeria who was hoping it wouldn’t be a ‘story for another time’ again, “but I shall tell an abridged version.”

  “Can we watch the ceiling while you tell it?” Henrik asked, and Derik smiled fondly. Valeria turned her gaze back up to the ceiling along with her brother and father.

  “Seven cycles after the Fae War, my parents started a rebellion against the Dracul family. You see, the Grey family was the original ruling family but was overthrown shortly after the end of the Dark Ages,“ Derik said, the images on the ceiling shifted to follow his words. They seemed to glaze over to only images without fighting or gore as Valeria had expected, “My family...disagreed with King Dracul, your grandfather’s choices and sought to overthrow him. Your mother chose to fight alongside my family and me despite her allegiances to King Dracul. We did not succeed in overthrowing him, I was the only one spared punishment. The end”

  “That was very abridged,” Valeria commented, turning to look at her dad who shrugged and Henrik had turned to look at him as well, “Not that I’m upset about it but why were you spared?”

  “I was married to your mom,” Derik responded, looking away from the ceiling and to his children, “It also helped that our marriage was a great alliance between the Draculs and the Greys before the Fae War and has stood strong to this day.”

  “You and Mom were an arranged marriage?”

  “Yes, your brother Demetri is betrothed to Dutchess Odette Drakan. The betrothal of every first-born royal was mandated after the Demon War,” Derik responded, once again surprising Valeria. Maybe she really was self-absorbed. She wondered if Demetri knew about this, he probably did since Derik didn’t tell her to keep it a secret, “Your mother is the youngest of her siblings but was married to me to keep the peace between our families.”

  “But he is only older by a couple minutes,” Valeria protested.

  “Doesn’t matter. Demetri was the first to come out, making him the heir for this branch of the family. If your positions were reversed, you would be engaged,” Derik explained, smiling softly at her, “Do not worry about those things. Neither of us plans on dying anytime soon or forcing you to marry for that matter.”

  “Did you make the ceiling stop doing the thing?” Henrik questioned reminding them he was still sitting there.

  “Yes. That is a story I shall tell when you both are ready,” Derik responded, as he tucked one of Henrik’s curls behind his pointed ear, “One day when it is safe to tell it.”

  “What do you mean safe?” Valeria asked, looking up at the ceiling that was now just a simmering image of Derik flying on Thoren, “Are you controlling the images?”

  “It is an enchantment,” Her mother said from her spot leaning against the doorway, she had walked in silently without any of them noticing. Florence’s normally tied up hair, was flowing freely down her back and on top of her head was a silver tiara with rubies embedded within the delicate craftwork, and she moved over them, “Blood magic actually, the blood is mixed with the paint.”

  “You look like a queen, my heart,” Derik complimented, and Florence pressed a kiss to his lips. Both ignored the gagging noises of their daughter.

  “And you a king,” Florence responded against his lips before she picked Henrik up from his lap and rested him on her hip, “Off to the carriage. Come on. You’re making us late.”

  “What?” Derik scoffed as Valeria, and he followed their mother, “You were the last one ready.”

  “You didn’t have to get Emalia, Henrik and Valeria sorted,” Florence responded sliding into the carriage.

  “I got myself ready,” Valeria protested as she took her seat by the window, and her mom gave her a look reminding her of her hair and her apparel, “Mostly.”

  “Why aren’t Nebby and Thoren coming?” Henrik asked as he settled himself in Florence’s lap.

  “Nebby is still feeling the effects of the pocket potion, and Thoren is keeping her company. Besides, a new rule of no companions was enforced this cycle,” Florence responded as the carriage began the journey towards Kalissa.

  * * *

  Chapter Twelve

  The Anniversary

  As their carriage moved through Kalissa, they passed the masses of beasts watching the parade that was traveling through the main road with floating platforms depicting the end of the Demon War. Beasts in the parade and watching it were celebrating with loud cheers and joyous grins. Valeria wondered whether Ziana was among the beasts of the Grey Academy that were viewing the festivities. There were various parties being thrown right now, including the parade but the one held in the Kalissa palace was exclusively for royals and war veterans of the Demon War. The castle was on the hill overlooking the city and as they drove further up, the more they could see. The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the Kalissan palace, fairy lights illuminated a golden pathway to the tall stone archways, beasts were crowded around the fence lining the path with excited looks and cameras in their hands. Florence grabbed Derik’s
hand before he could open the door and looked at all of them.

  “No one mention anything about Emalia’s physical appearance,” Florence stated giving all of them a warning look.

  “Why?” Valeria questioned exchanging a dumbfounded expression with her little brother.

  “Callan is an imbecile, that’s why,” Florence replied, releasing Derik’s hand and they all vacated the carriage causing the crowd of beasts to erupt in a flurry of excitement. Sometimes Valeria forgot that her mother was famous among the people, being a member of the Six, and saving the world. Only in moments like these, where hordes of beasts praised her name and waited for her arrival, did Valeria remember. Her mother ignored the people as she ushered their family past the throngs of beasts and into the palace walls.

  The path through the stone hallways of the castle was decorated in golden ribbons, floating fairy lights, and noteworthy paintings that reminded her of the ones she had seen in the Bloodris palace. Around them were other beasts, making their way to the courtyard talking to each other. She kept an eye out for Emalia. Finally, they entered the enormous courtyard that overlooked the city, Valeria could make out the entirety of the parades path, and the city lit up with all the colors from every territory. It was a breathtaking sight that made Valeria regret never attending the party with her parents before. The courtyard itself was filled with illuminated vegetation and round tables. In the far corner, Valeria could see a band of musicians dutifully playing soft music for the entertainment of the party and by them was a dancefloor where many beasts spun elegantly to the tune. Valeria remembered her conversation with Ziana and the voices, she needed to figure out if the voice meant this anniversary. She needed to search for something out of the ordinary, that would bring her closer to figuring out what was going on.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A familiar voice said. When Valeria turned around, her Uncle Xander was standing there beside his mate, Ivan. Her Uncle’s mate had long multicolor hair that was neatly braided down his back with gold paint resembling flames going from his bare arms to his fingertips. Honestly, Ivan Brantley was the most beautiful beast she’d ever seen. However, Valeria was surprised to see the phoenix here at all with him being under house arrest.

  “It would look better in flames,” Ivan remarked with a slight smirk causing Xander to roll his eyes.

  “Dear, please,” Xander spoke up with an exasperated sigh, “We are in public, and you are a known murderer.”

  “Ex-murderer,” Ivan defended placing a hand over his core in mock shock.

  “Where is Nova?” Henrik asked from his spot by Florence’s leg, and Ivan looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.

  “At home as you should be,” Ivan replied before tutting, “I can’t believe you brought the little one. I would be too afraid with some of these people lurking around.”

  “They let you lurk around for a night, didn’t they?” Callan said, coming to join their group. Emalia was holding onto his arm, both of them wearing matching black and blue outfits. The blue of the dress contrasted nicely with her sister’s orange locks. Looking closer at her sister, Valeria noticed that her stomach looked more rounded than before. Remembering her mother’s words from the carriage, she quickly tore her eyes up to Emalia’s face who was watching the squabbling between Ivan and her mate in amusement.

  “I am reformed,” Ivan snapped before turning to Xander with a pout, “Tell your furry son to be nice to me, love.”

  “Dear Creator, help me,” Xander mumbled, and Florence snorted at the comment.

  “Please, Ivan is hardly the most dangerous thing here,” Florence teased before scooping up Henrik, resting him on her hip.

  “Yes, Queen snake we are quite aware,” Callan snorted taking two drinks from a passing server and handing one to her sister.

  “Oh, you mistake me. I wasn’t referring to myself but to your atrocious odor,” Florence teased with a smirk, Henrik giggled from his spot on her hip, “It’s lethal.”

  “Would it kill you to be nice to my mother?” Emalia asked an amused smile on her face as she glanced between them. Valeria waited for her sister to meet her eyes, but she didn't. Maybe Emalia was still upset about their conversation the other day.

  “It might,” Callan responded, “I don’t want to risk it.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” Florence said with a huff earning laughter from their group.

  “What does that mean?” Henrik said pulling on their mother’s hair and Valeria finally understood why her mother always kept her hair tied into a tight bun, well besides being a warrior that does not need hair falling in her face during a fight. Florence gently took Henrik’s hand away from her hair before chastising him for the action.

  “It means that Callan can never be fixed,” Florence replied sweetly, the words were harsh, but Valeria could tell she was teasing by the slight upturn of her lips.

  “Mom,” Emalia grouched with a sigh as Callan let out a cry of indignation, “That was unkind.”

  “It was meant to be,” Florence responded, Derik smiled into his hand from beside her and Callan scoffed again. Her sister merely rolled her eyes and patted Callan’s hand.

  “So Callan, Florence tells me you’re the lucky one to give to the speech tonight,” Derik said, effectively changing the subject.

  “Define lucky,” Callan fussed, his smirk fading into a grimace, “I hate these events more than fighting in the damn war.”

  “Callan,” Xander chided, “No, you don’t. These are very tiresome, but it is something you face once a cycle. Besides, Veronica gave the speech last cycle, and you won’t have to do this again for another four.”

  “Yeah like that wasn't a shitshow,” Ivan declared, taking a sip of whatever cocktail he had acquired.

  “Ivan, you are not helping,” Xander said with an exasperated sigh.

  “What? The only time the speeches are good is when you or Florence give them,” Ivan replied, “Zoar has lost his mind, Veronica is bitter, and Callan bumbles around like a troll.”

  “He does his best,” Emalia defended, but she couldn’t hide the grin on her face.

  “Cheeks!” Callan exclaimed, “You're supposed to be on my side.”

  “What? I defended you, but he's right, my love, you are not cut out for public speaking unless it involves troop morale.”

  “I for one am looking forward to your speech,” Derik declared with a smile, “it will be quite the spectacle.”

  “All of you are assholes,” Callan quipped downing the rest of his drink, “I need another one of these.”

  “No, one is quite enough,” Emalia said taking the glass from him and placing it on the empty tray of a waiter with a thankful smile, “I will not be carrying you up onto that stage again.”

  “Oh come on, but last time was so much fun,” Callan protested his typical smirk taking its place on the wolf’s lips.

  “You insulted King Dracul in front of a planet-wide broadcasted event,” Florence responded, lifting her eyebrow at him but he just shrugged.

  “He didn’t say anything that wasn't true,” Derik offered.

  “Yes and it took me weeks of damage control to make sure Callan didn’t get assassinated,” Florence countered, Henrik who was still perched on her hip wore the same confused expression as Valeria did. Valeria distantly remembered watching something like that during the planet-wide broadcast and her mom’s angry muttering that accompanied it, weeks after.

  “You say that like he’s not trying to constantly take out our children,” Derik said, taking a sip from his chalice.

  “Not your biological children,” Ivan supplied.

  “Dad,” Emalia exclaimed at the same time as Florence snapped out, “Derik.”

  “Is someone trying to kill us?” Henrik asked his mother, his eyes welling with tears.

  “No, darling. No one is trying to kill you,” Florence soothed, placing a hand on his cheek before sending a glare in her husband's direction, “Your father is making an idiotic joke.�
��

  “Why don’t we head to our seats,” Xander suggested, while Derik murmured an apology to Florence and patted Henrik’s back, “I’m sure Veronica and Zoar could use the company.”

  “That’s a great idea, Uncle Xan. Come on V,” Emalia said, grabbing onto Valeria’s arm and pulling her towards the stage where the tables were set up. Maybe her sister wasn’t mad at her anymore.

  In the very center of the set up was a golden table with eleven seats surrounding it. Sat there was Veronica Arriens, Zoar Lightwing, and another elf Valeria didn’t recognize. Veronica Arriens was gorgeous with dark skin and intricately braided silver hair. The tips were dyed a purple that matched her glowing eyes. The sorcerer would be breathtaking if it weren’t for the scowl adorning her face. Zoar looked exactly as he did in all the pictures she’d seen of him. The same reddish-brown skin, bright brown eyes, and a leaf over his left eye which he’d lost in the wars. The two war veterans were not talking to each other, in fact, it seemed like they were avoiding looking at each other at all. When they arrived at the table, the unknown elf looked relieved to see them.

  “Holland, Zoar, Veronica,” Florence greeted as they sat down, “You remember my youngest fledglings, Valeria and Henrik.”

  “Of course,” The elf now known as Holland smiled warmly at Valeria, “The last time I saw you, you and your brother were barely to my knee.”

  “Oh congratulations on the new baby,” Zoar said, looking at Henrik, “Although he seems a little big. I thought he was just born.”

  “No dear, it’s been a while since we’ve seen the remaining members of the six,” Holland, who Valeria realized must be Zoar’s mate said, their tone filled with patience as they patted Zoar’s hand. Ivan’s comment about the Elven prince losing his mind made sense to her now. They all sat in their seats, not commenting on the lapse. Despite having a chair of his own, Henrik elected to remain in Florence’s lap, and the conversation at the tables continued.