Queen of the Lycan

by Karina Espinosa

  Fenrir narrowed his eyes on me. “You have many who would fight for you.”

  I smirked. “Yeah, but I’m the Queen. That means I will defend my own people. Take note.” I brought my right leg back and stood in a defensive stance.

  “Very well, little wolf.” Fenrir shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and tossed it aside. With a growl, he morphed into a half shift and charged.

  I ran to meet him halfway and ducked just as he swung out with his claws in a wide arc, the tips barely grazing my abdomen. I slid on my knees and popped up behind him, digging my claws into his back and dragging them up through his flesh as I stood. He roared and jabbed his elbow into my face and I stumbled back, reaching for my bloody nose, knowing it was broken.

  Without hesitation, he landed several punches to my stomach with enough force to make me slump forward, then grabbed me by the neck and lifted me off the ground, my bare feet grazing the marble floor. My breaths were ragged and harsh, and my ribs screamed in agony from all the hits I’d taken to the abdomen. With a sickening grin, he slammed me down on the marble floor, my head bouncing from the force.

  My vision darkened and I heard the unmistakable crack of marble in my ear. My eyes were open but they couldn’t focus, however I was acutely aware of the hundreds of horrified people watching the match unfold. I was out of it for a couple of precious seconds, but was snatched back to reality when he started to lift me up off the floor.

  I managed to reach my left arm over his and maneuvered it around, elbowing the crease of his arm until he released me. Taking advantage of my slight victory, I kicked him with all my might at the knee until I heard an unsettling crack. I rolled backward until I was back on my feet, though I was woozy and lightheaded from my head being smacked on the marble. Even so, I didn’t wait to regain my bearings. I ducked my head down and barreled straight for him, tackling him to the ground and falling on top of him. He flung me off him with a growl before I could hit him, and we both quickly scrambled on all fours and stared each other down.

  “You’re fighting differently today,” he remarked with a tilt of his head.

  “I’m fighting for my people,” I said, out of breath.

  Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how true that statement was. Before, I was just fighting for my own life. Not that it was something to sneeze at, but it was different when you had the future of an entire species on your shoulders. What shocked me even more was how I now considered the Lycan my people, when it wasn’t that long ago that I hadn’t.

  Fenrir grinned maliciously. “Your people will watch you die.”

  As if from one mind, we ran toward each other on all fours and struck at the same time. We each dug a clawed hand into the other’s chest and gasped in unison as we held onto each other’s beating hearts. My eyes widened as I felt the taloned tips of his claws graze my heart. I knew if I moved even slightly, I was a goner. Then again, so was he.

  I heard a thunderous growl and an anguished roar from Bash and saw him over Fenrir’s shoulder where Ranulf and Alexander were trying to hold him back with a couple of guards. He thrashed in their hold in his single-minded focus to reach me. A single tear drop slid down my face. I knew my life was about to end, and that Bash’s life would end as well because of our bond.

  My mind clicked through the possibilities of my situation, unwilling to give up just yet. Fenrir was a god. I could rip his heart out, but would he die? It might be a gamble he was willing to take. Only one of us was mortal and guaranteed to die.

  I swallowed a couple times, my mouth unbearably dry. My gaze traveled around the ballroom to the shocked expressions that surrounded the grisly spectacle. I glanced at Alexander and wished I could communicate with him so I could tell him how sorry I was for disappointing him. I hadn’t been Queen for even a day and I was already getting myself killed. In front of our people, no less! His gray eyes glistened with unshed tears, the anger simmering in impotent rage. But the anger wasn’t directed toward me. He stared at the back of Fenrir’s head as if he wished he could drill a hole right through it.

  My gaze trailed back to Fenrir’s wild eyes. His grip on my heart tightened and I sucked in a pained breath through the wreckage of my ribcage.

  “What are you going to do now, little wolf?” he taunted. “It seems we’re at an impasse.”

  I coughed and winced from the pain it caused. “What are you waiting for?” I whispered. “You have your opportunity. Take it. Kill me. Isn’t that what you want? To get rid of me so the Lycan will bow down to you?” I gasped when he squeezed my heart again.

  Fenrir growled, “You think I won’t do it?” He leaned closer, bending my arm where my hand was embedded in his chest, barely holding on.

  “I think …” I breathed, “I think you fear the people.” He tilted his head, curious, and I elaborated. “I might not be Miss Popular, but there’s one thing I do have, and that’s the love and loyalty of the lunas.” I grinned lazily. “They’re no longer the silent minority. When you kill me, you’ll have them to deal with. They’ll never bow down to you, whether you’re a god or not.”

  I peered around the ballroom and connected with each luna in the room, seeing the stern looks and hardened fire in their eyes. Over the years, I’d been arrogant about a lot of things I shouldn’t have been, but this was one truth I was positive about. They would stand by me until the bitter end and beyond.

  “Go ahead.” I nudged him and stepped closer, wincing from the pain. “Kill me … KILL ME!” I shouted, making the walls tremble from the force of my Alpha voice.

  Fenrir frowned, clearly not expecting this reaction from me. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing, honestly. Was I being a martyr? Truthfully, I just wanted his hand out of my chest. The pain was swiftly becoming unbearable and I could barely stay standing on my own.

  Fenrir grabbed my face with his free hand, squeezing my cheeks and bringing me closer to him. Before I could take my next breath, he ripped his hand out of my chest. I panted loudly, my eyes widening in shock as I heard Bash scream. I expected death and was surprised to still feel my heart beat soundly in my chest, especially after feeling like I’d just been torn apart. Instinctively, my hand retracted from his chest to touch my own.

  I peered down at his hand to see it was bloody, but blissfully empty of any of my organs. My heart was still intact. He gripped my neck again and lifted me higher so we were eye to eye, my toes barely grazing the floor, my neck straining as he held me aloft by my face.

  “You give up so easily, little wolf,” he whispered close to my face. “Why are you so willing to die for these people?”

  “Why are you so willing to kill for them?” I repeated back to him.

  “Because they’re mine,” he growled possessively.

  “No,” I refuted, gritting my words out through my clenched jaw. “They’re not property. They will never respect you. You’ve probably been given everything all your life. Lucky you. But respect is earned; it’s fought for. You’ll never get what you want. Not like this.”

  Fenrir must have been getting tired of me and my mouth, because he dropped me to the floor where I collapsed in a boneless heap. I gulped in a huge breath and laid on the floor in a daze, peering up at the wolf god, Fenrir standing over me. Slowly, I dragged myself to my feet on wobbly knees and stood before him.

  My energy was depleted to the point where I could hardly hold myself up, but I stared him straight in the eye without flinching. In one swift motion, I swiped my claws across his throat and screamed out my hatred, expending every ounce of power I had left in reserve. Blood gushed everywhere in a wide, red curtain and Fenrir clutched his neck, his eyes widening in surprise. Stumbling back, he coughed up blood as Raven rushed toward him.

  Bash caught me just as I fell backward and gently held me upright. The room was tense, the mood somber; everyone was unsure what to do or what exactly just happened.

  Until laughter rang out through the ballroom.

  I weakly lifted my head to look over at Fenr
ir, who was leaning on Raven and laughing hysterically as he clutched his crimson neck.

  I frowned, unable to comprehend what was going on.

  That blow should have killed him! Unless I’m right and he can’t die.

  “You’re a fighter, little wolf.” Fenrir coughed into his hand. “I’ll enjoy this.” With that, he turned with Raven supporting one side and started to leave the ballroom, the rest of the Valkyries falling in line behind them.

  Liam approached me hesitantly with two other guards, doing a quick bow before asking, “Yer Majesty, what do ye want us to do? Go after them?”

  I had about as much fortitude right then as a wet noodle in Bash’s arms and could barely keep my eyes open. I heard Liam’s question, but everything registered so slowly in my brain, it took me a moment to respond.

  I tried to lift a hand but find that I couldn’t. “No.” I shook my head. “Don’t. Let them leave,” I muttered.

  Liam bowed. “Yes, Yer Majesty.”

  He turned and walked away and I was left to face my people, unsure what to do. Luckily, I didn’t need to worry about it for too long. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I collapsed in Bash’s arms.

  Everything went dark.

  7

  The pungent smell of lavender was the first thing I noticed as I stirred awake. I slowly fluttered my eyes open, looking straight at the ceiling. The room was dim, lit only by a small lamp on a nightstand beside the bed where I laid. I was on my back, wrapped like a burrito in blankets that were soft and warm. Maybe a little too warm.

  I turned my head to the side and noticed the box Lucian had given me that contained Adaline’s journal was sitting on the nightstand. Bash was seated on one of the armchairs from the sitting area that he pulled up beside the bed. He was fast asleep, his head tilted back. His suit jacket was off and the once perfectly-tied bow tie was undone and hanging off his neck, dangling along the unbuttoned buttons at the top of his white shirt.

  Peeking under the covers, I saw I was no longer wearing my torn red dress, but in pajamas. Some very nice, silk-striped pajama pants and a buttoned-up shirt. Fancy.

  With a groan, I sat up slightly and leaned back against the plush headboard, then reached over to tap Bash’s knee. He jerked awake and automatically reached for my hand.

  “Mackenzie!” He cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “What happened?”

  Bash squeezed my hand. “You overexerted yourself and, well … with the extent of your injuries … you collapsed. The doc stitched you up, but he said it would be best if you went for a run as soon as possible.”

  My hand moved instinctively to my chest where Fenrir’s clawed hand had been lodged, but all I felt was a mound of stitches. It would be yet another scar, if I didn’t shift.

  “Alexander … is he okay?” I asked urgently.

  “He’s fine. Everyone is okay. Fenrir and his small army left without causing any more problems.”

  If only his words could put me at ease. Instead, it had the opposite effect. It meant they were planning something. Whatever it was, it was big. Fenrir didn’t get what he wanted tonight, which was to kill me. Why didn’t he?

  “What are you thinking, Mackenzie?” Bash asked as he brushed a few strands of hair away from my face. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  I shook my head and looked down at my hands, defeated. “I can’t win against him, Bash,” I mumbled. “It’s impossible. He can’t die.”

  “Look at me.” His voice was stern, brooking no argument. I peered up at him and fought the tears that threatened to fall. “No one is truly immortal. Everyone dies eventually. We just need to find out how to speed up Fenrir’s death. He must have a weakness.”

  I sighed. “We’ve shown all our cards, while he hasn’t shown a single one,” I muttered, mainly to myself.

  Bash grinned. “Then let’s make him show his cards.”

  If only it could be that easy.

  The first thing I did as soon as day broke was shift and go for a run. The run hastened the healing process for my assorted injuries and I felt better physically, but my energy levels were low. I still wasn’t at one hundred percent and I had no idea why.

  After my run, I took a shower and changed into clothes that were more appropriate for a newly minted Queen … in other words, not jeans and a t-shirt. But you wouldn’t catch me wearing dresses all the time, either. I rummaged in a closet the size of a small apartment and found a pair of gray chino slacks, a black blouse I tucked in the front, and a pair of oxford flats and called it a day. The overall look was professional while still feeling like me. I grabbed a charcoal blazer and headed to the council room where I knew the Council – now called the Queen’s Council – was waiting for me.

  Ranulf was standing outside my door waiting to escort me, along with a full accompaniment of guards. We strode out of the royal quarters and walked toward the council room.

  “How are ye feeling, Yer Majesty?” Ranulf asked, walking beside me.

  I sighed. “Like I’ve been run over.”

  “Did ye nae go for a run?”

  I nodded. “I did, but I don’t know, something feels off.”

  Ranulf eyed me with concern. “I will have the doctor come see ye in yer chambers.”

  “No, it’s okay, don’t worry. I’ll be fine—”

  “Ye will see the doctor, Yer Majesty,” he commanded in a tone that said he meant business.

  I snapped my neck in his direction and chuckled, but wisely refrained from arguing with the brusque guard. It didn’t matter if I was Queen or not; Ranulf would still tell me what to do.

  “Only because you asked so nicely,” I replied sweetly, causing him to roll his eyes, making me laugh even harder.

  When we arrived at the council room, the guards standing outside the doors opened each side and we strolled inside. The Council stood at our arrival and remained standing until I took my seat at the head of the table where Alexander once sat. Once I was situated, I waved for them to take a seat.

  I leaned forward, took a much-needed, deep breath, and peered intently at every member. “This meeting is now brought to order. What’s on the table for today?”

  Jacob grunted, “I think we all want to discuss what happened yesterday at yer coronation reception.”

  “What about it?” I replied breezily, motioning for him to expand upon his comment.

  “The Lycan obviously has a grudge against ye,” Jacob stated. “It is nae against our people, so why should our people suffer because of ye?”

  I watched as the others bobbed their heads along with him in obvious agreement and frowned. Do they honestly think Fenrir is only after me? How delusional are they?

  “Really? So what is it that you’re suggesting, Jacob?” I propped my chin on my fist and leaned in, eager to hear what was about to spew from his mouth.

  “It’s too dangerous to have ye as our Queen,” he insisted. “Ye should make the sacrifice for the Lycan and give up the crown. It’s what a good Queen would do, ye ken,” he added, getting the approval of the Council.

  “Hells bells! Are ye serious?” Ranulf shouted and slammed his fists on the table, making it rattle.

  “Ye know Jacob is right!” Callum agreed. “More of our people will die before they get her,” he snarled, pointing in my direction.

  “Remember who yer talking to!” Ranulf demanded. “Do nae speak so informally!”

  Callum’s face turned beet red before he added, “Yer Majesty.”

  The Council members took turns arguing against Ranulf, bickering back and forth as I sat back, crossing my legs and watching them with the same intensity as I would animals at the zoo. They were so quick to throw me under the bus. Not that I was surprised in the slightest, but it was interesting to watch how their minds worked. They got what they wanted: a seemingly airtight reason for getting rid of me, all cloaked in a self-righteous for our people bouquet. I just thought they’d be a little slyer about it, and not the
day after my coronation. I supposed opportunity waited for no man.

  “Are you all done?” I yelled to get their attention, slamming my palm on the table, making them quiet in an instant. “Good. Now, how delusional are you that you honestly believe it’s me he wants? Didn’t you hear him? What he wants is my position, not me specifically. So no matter who sits on the throne, he’s going to go after them. It won’t end with me.”

  “Yes, well, we will deal with that—” Callum started to say.

  “Ahhh, the truth comes out. So it’s me you want to get rid of, is what you’re saying.” I raised a challenging brow.

  Everyone froze, their mouths gaping in shock after being caught red-handed in their plot to overthrow me.

  “That’s not what we want,” Finlay sputtered, his eyes wide in guilty horror.

  “Right … Well, none of you are gonna have to worry about it for long,” I teased. I sat straighter in my chair, the picture of poise, and clasped my hands in front of me.

  “And why is that?” Jacob snapped with an arrogance that made me want to strangle him.

  I maintained a carefully neutral expression, not giving away a glimmer of what I was about to say, then smiled sweetly. “Because … you’re all being relieved of your duties. Enjoy unemployment.”

  There was a pregnant pause before the room exploded in an uproar. Chairs were shoved back from the table and Council members bolted up from their seats, slamming their fists and yelling with red faces. I let them get it all out of their systems, just like one would do with a cranky toddler. When I caught the flicker of glowing eyes and claws, I flashed my silver eyes, subduing them all with the increased power of my Alpha status as I sat calmly in my chair.

  “Ye cannae do this!” Callum yelled. “We are the King’s Council! We have been for years!”

  I grinned. “Good thing it’s no longer the King’s Council, but the Queen’s Council now. I want people on my council I can trust, which is a problem because I don’t trust any of you.”