by Kamryn Hart
No. It was much worse. Nothing like my woods at all. I had a small amount of moonlight left. But what good was it now? Patience was not my friend.
CHAPTER 5
AERRE
WE WEREN’T MOVING FAST enough. The idea of infiltrating Paws Peak to take back the princess was a pain, but I knew we’d manage. What I didn’t know was if we’d manage it before she was sealed by the Mate Claim. Would we need to hunt down the werewolf who claimed her too? It would be one of the princes, meaning more trouble. I wondered if we’d be able to do any of it without pinning Wolf Bridge as the culprit. I knew a worse war than I had ever seen in my lifetime was on the horizon because the Lost Princess existed. But I didn’t want to bring those problems to Wolf Bridge. I wanted my sister and mother safe.
The world was about to fall apart, and it was all because of a damn werewolf princess. As if I didn’t need another reason to despise those monsters.
I glared at Rodrick who was leaning against the metal door on his side of the roader, head resting on the window as the vehicle bumped along narrow passages through the trees and growing mountains. We had to chart our own course since taking the paved road all the way to Paws Peak was only asking for trouble. We had to go incognito.
“We aren’t moving fast enough,” I announced.
“I’m moving as fast as I can without rolling us over,” Todd said testily and shifted gears once again. His white hand was sweaty against the black leather steering wheel, veins popping out in a distinct blue. It was a bit warm in here, but he was probably mostly nervous since we were moving slower now because of the terrain and because we didn’t want the roar of the engine to announce our presence.
“The princess is going to be sealed by the Mate Claim,” I muttered. “Prince Charles will be the one to claim her, according to that conversation Todd recorded with his bugs a week ago. What are we going to do about Prince Charles? Kill him? We’re at a stalemate with Paws Peak, with pretty much everyone, and now we’re going to incite their wrath?”
“We’re going in quietly, Aerre,” Caspian chastised as he brushed the dark curls of his unruly hair away from his eyes. “But yeah. I’m not going to lie. This stalemate is coming to an end one way or another. It would be that way whether we, Phantom Fangs, did something or not.”
I knew that, but it didn’t make the painful twisting in my gut feel any better. I believed in Caspian. I thought he had the power to change this world, but I didn’t want change to come at the cost of my family’s safety. I wanted change to guarantee their safety. That was out of my hands, though.
I knew Caspian getting the princess first was the only decision we could make. If anyone else got her, that would mean certain doom. So I did my best to swallow my fears and uncertainties. Caspian hadn’t led me astray yet. Werewolf or not, friend or not, I trusted the Phantom Prince with my life. I hated werewolves. I was sure that would never change after what happened to my sister, but I became tethered to Caspian and joined his team because he was my best option. He kept my family safe.
“Damn it,” I muttered. “What if we can’t handle the Lost Princess? The legend says she has great power.”
“There’s four of us and one of her,” Caspian replied.
I rolled my eyes.
“And she’s a werea,” Rodrick commented with an irritating grin, flashing white teeth from within a short brown beard that was kept meticulously trimmed. “I’ve met few men and ain’t ever met a woman yet who can best me physically.”
“She surpasses physical strength if the rumors are true, you ox. She’s supposedly like a container for moonlight, and you know how powerful moonlight can make a werewolf—even females.”
Rodrick gave this lazy grin that made me wish I could punch him in his stupid face. I didn’t fight Rodrick with fists. Although, I was often tempted to. He was literally an ox of a man, sturdy and stubborn. He was branded like one too, with all those inky, coiling tattoos he had. He was also an agitator spy. I was sure of it. I didn’t have any proof, but I was determined to make him slip up and expose himself.
He gave me this knowing look and a slight nod of his head as if he knew what I was thinking. He probably did. I never let it rest. I couldn’t. Rodrick could ruin everything for me. I thought he was the one who would bring bloodshed and kill my family, but the Lost Princess was beating him to it. I couldn’t stand him. He was tethered too. He should have understood where I was coming from. He should have been an ally, but no.
Agitators wanted to see the world burn. They almost succeeded when their predecessors, the humans from Glory Valley, almost destroyed all of Prime with the Hellfire Strike. Every surviving kingdom, werewolf and vampire alike, had an unspoken truce as they teemed together to destroy Glory Valley after that, but some people inevitably survived and hid away, becoming agitators who reared their heads at random intervals, trying to build up their kingdom again, perhaps.
Rodrick was an agitator Wolf Bridge caught trying to steal tech. He should have been executed, but he somehow found out about Caspian forming Phantom Fangs two months ago. He asked to join. What did Caspian do? He fucking let him. I’ve been trying to convince him of his mistake ever since. Once an agitator, always an agitator. Maybe they didn’t have much power anymore, but they could still cause plenty of trouble.
Agitators wanted to destroy the werewolves and vampires. While I wasn’t against that, I was against what it would mean for all of the people living inside of Wolf Bridge, my family included. I was certain Rodrick was a part of this team so he could find the opportune moment to sabotage us. Caspian should have known that. If he did, he was doing a fantastic job of ignoring it. And that made me furious.
Soon, Rodrick would betray us. I had to stop him before he did.
Pressure built in my eyes, and I realized I was leaking moonlight. Wisps of blue played at the corners of my vision. I closed my eyes when Rodrick tensed and flexed his mounds of muscles. I wasn’t going to start a fight in here. I turned forward and opened my eyes again when I had locked up my moonlight reserves. The blue was gone along with the pressure. I had to save my strength. I couldn’t afford to act recklessly.
“Almost there. Then I just have to hack into the spires,” Todd announced as he maneuvered through more trees.
Caspian nodded. “Get ready.”
CHAPTER 6
SORISSA
THIS YELLOW DRESS WAS like nothing I had ever worn before. It was made with materials that were quite obviously “expensive.” The labor that went into crafting the intricate lace was something I only had a small understanding of. I knew how to sew and make my own clothes, but I wasn’t into beautifying. I made my clothes with practicality in mind. This dress was not practical, and the lace was an unnecessary embellishment.
The dress wasn’t the worst part, though. I was wearing layers of frills underneath and a devil-conceived contraption called a corset. It squeezed my waist and pumped up my breasts so they were almost bulging out of the strapless top of the dress. It made it difficult to breathe. I humored the human woman decorating me like a fine ornament. I let her put “makeup” all over my face. I let her tie up the long curls of my hair. But this corset was the last straw.
“I’m taking it off,” I said.
The woman’s face paled and her hands flew to her cheeks.
I was about to rip right through the dress when the door to my room flung open. The scarred alpha waltzed in with Den and Nash at his side.
“This is a princess,” he said as he looked me up and down, eyes lingering on my abused breasts. “It’s time to meet the king and his favorite prince.”
“I can’t breathe,” I replied.
“Don’t be dramatic. I’m sure your maid left you just enough breathing room. Doing a poor job means being demoted to meat. Isn’t that right, woman?”
She trembled under his gaze and bowed. “Yes, Captain Leer.”
“So your name is Leer?” I noted. “It suits you.”
“Enough talk, Princess.
We can’t keep our king and prince waiting.”
He grabbed me by the arm, and I stumbled in the ridiculous high-heeled shoes I was wearing. I was not a klutz, but I wasn’t used to walking like this either. I tried to yank my arm from his grasp, but he held fast as if he were expecting me to try this.
“Get used to it,” he said. “You should rest your hand gently on my arm. Then I won’t have to force you. It’s the proper way things are done.”
I noticed a difference in Leer. He was portraying a calmness he didn’t have before, even though I knew uneasiness rested below. He was trying to make a good impression on his king. He felt that the way I conducted myself reflected on him. Nash and Den were silent, falling into step just behind me and their “captain.”
I took as deep of a breath as the corset would allow and relaxed my arm. Patience. Play along. Leer softened his hold and I rested my hand “gently” on his arm. He stayed true to his word, releasing me from his iron grip.
Soldiers watched us as we moved down long polished halls. My shoes clicked against the almost slippery surface and reverberated all around us. The slightest sneeze or cough wouldn’t go unnoticed in a place like this. It didn’t help that everyone else was so silent. The soldiers stood in their assigned places and looked more like statues than living beings.
At the end of the largest hall, there was a set of double doors that reached all the way up to the high ceiling. They looked extremely heavy. They must have been because I noticed a much smaller, inconspicuous door carved into one of them. That door was the one that opened to allow us entry. It was another one of those designs I thought superfluous, but that seemed to be just how things were in this kingdom. Many things were purely for the visual aspect of it while few others were there for function. It made me wonder why they insisted on so much gray.
This was the throne room—based on the metallic throne at the head of it, elevated on a platform standing at least six feet higher than the floor. A very old werewolf sat there. The back of the throne, like the double doors, reached the high ceiling, well past his head. His throne and crown looked like they were made of the same metal. They had spiraling patterns that reached up into points and gentle curves, part of the same “kingly” sculpture. However, the king himself was what made the sculpture pop. He stood out from the grays with his long white hair, plump form, and wrinkled brown skin. He wore grays similar to the uniformed werewolves, but he had much more yellow than a small paw-print badge on his right breast; he wore a long yellow cape that pooled at his feet like captured sunrays. There was a werewolf standing beside him as well, dressed much like himself. He looked like a much younger version of the king, his hair brown instead of white.
I noticed more windows with that pearly material making up their frame. More moons of the same material were embedded in the floor underneath them. Now, instead of red, they reflected the blue of moonlight. It almost made my hair stand on end as if I could feel its energy. But that seemed unlikely, given I couldn’t absorb moonlight until the moon was full.
“Bow down,” Leer murmured when we reached the foot of the raised throne.
I followed Leer, Nash, and Den to the ground, bowing lower than I thought necessary. And it was quite a feat. I didn’t know how I managed to do it without puncturing a lung or tearing the damn dress I was wearing.
“So this is our princess.” Footsteps clicked on the polished floor. “Rise.” A hand touched my shoulder and I righted myself. The king had descended his throne and stood in front of me. He was a little bit taller than I was, but not by much. I could look into his eyes easily enough. I held his gaze unwaveringly even as his fingers rubbed my shoulder in a manner that made my skin crawl. He wore the same hungry look as all the other werewolf males I had met. That was the best way I could describe their looks. I didn’t like being viewed as a piece of meat. I wanted to tear out his steel-gray eyes. I was not a submissive.
Anger roiled inside of my stomach. My patience was running thin.
“You and your werewolves are excused, Captain.” The king jerked his head toward Leer who gave a small bow and promptly left the way he had come with Nash and Den on his heels. A shiver ran up my spine with the resounding click of the door closing, leaving me alone with the king and the young werewolf who had to be his son. The king grinned, revealing a couple metal teeth among mostly white. “You are a beauty. Don’t you think, Charles?”
“Quite the beauty,” the younger werewolf replied as he came to stand near us. He was the first werewolf I had met who looked like he could be around my age.
I smiled back at the king and prince and then took a step back. Thankfully, the king didn’t insist on holding my shoulder to keep me right next to him like Leer had. The instant I was freed from his touch, I felt a little better, but I still couldn’t breathe. In fact, I was feeling lightheaded. I needed to keep control of my breathing because any uneasiness would cut off my air and the corset would win if I didn’t. I couldn’t lose to a stupid article of clothing after all of this.
“We thought you died with Howling Sky,” the king said. “Ah, but how rude of me. I’m King George ve Paz of Paws Peak.” He held out his hand to the younger werewolf. “This is my son, Prince Charles ve Paz of Paws Peak. We are honored to finally meet you, Princess Sorissa va Lupin of Howling Sky.”
“Long titles,” I said.
“King George” laughed boisterously. There was a wicked gleam in his cold eyes. I said the wrong thing. Maybe it was best to resort to silence like I had with Leer and his underlings.
“It turns out your mother managed to save your life,” George continued. “And she made a deal with a witch. The Witch of Witch Woods. All for you, her little Moonlight Child.”
This time, I stayed silent. But I had questions. Many questions.
“Here you stand at the ripe age of eighteen like you were promised all those years ago, like nothing had happened, like Howling Sky hadn’t fallen.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I blurted.
“No matter. It’s all in the past anyway. You needn’t think on it. All you need to know is that I am the King of Paws Peak, soon to be High King of Prime, the entire world, and that Prince Charles is to be your mate. All you have to do is bear my son’s cubs and make sure you look beautiful for all the werewolves in Paws Peak. You are a rarity. Wereas have always been uncommon, more so in recent times, but you are one of a kind. Anyone who catches a glimpse of you is lucky.”
George paused to tear his cold gaze from me to look at his son. “It’s a good thing I didn’t select one of our four wereas of mating age to be your mate, Charles. Princess Sorissa was delivered to us just in time. Then again, even if I had, you would have just sealed her with the Mate Claim as well. It would have all worked out. Although, you would have had the beginnings of a harem.” He chuckled. “Bitches often get jealous of such arrangements.” He returned his gaze to me, and I swore the gray of his eyes darkened. “I’d claim you myself if I didn’t already have a mate.”
He reached out his hand and placed his fingers under my chin. I clenched my jaw as he propped my head up and turned it left and right before returning his hand to his side. “Radiant and soft to the touch,” he murmured. “But alas, it’s best to leave the kingdom to younger and more capable hands. I am getting old at two hundred and seventy-nine. I saw the Hellfire Strike with my own eyes, thought for sure it was the end of the world, but Prime still stands and so does Paws Peak. Tech returned from the ban and once again thrives. You still live. And the Prime War isn’t over yet. I’ll finally have my time as High King, and then Prince Charles will have his.”
George had no interest in giving me a proper history lesson. He only wanted to boast. He was talking to me like I was another one of his prized accomplishments, a trophy. A conquest. I had been condescended to ever since I left my forest, ever since Babaga forced me out. I was not a token, some werea to be won. I was alive. I had free will.
“I don’t want to stay,” I said
curtly. “I want to go back to my woods.”
George’s eyes widened and his jaw grew slack. Then he laughed again, louder than before. His voice rang throughout the throne room, and it kept ringing when he stopped. “This is your home now, Princess Sorissa va Lupin of Howling Sky. It’s time you learn your place. I know you’ve been away from your own kind for your entire life, but you’ll learn quickly.” He turned to his son. “Claim her. It will make her more docile and less like a raging, hormonal bitch. Well, except for when it comes to how badly she’ll crave you, how her body will need you.”
What world were these werewolves living in? I didn’t know much about claiming or mates, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t transform me into something else, something like what George described. I couldn’t stop the reflexive action of baring my teeth at these males. Would another werea understand me better or would they be as upside down as everyone else I had met outside of the woods? I guessed they’d be the same. How else would a werea be able to stand being George’s mate?
I growled but quickly silenced myself when I saw the dangerous look in George’s eyes. Patience. Patience. Patience. I couldn’t take on an entire kingdom. I couldn’t even take on three werewolves—especially when they had moonlight to spare and I had but a drop. Why had Babaga done this to me?
“Out of my sight,” George ordered.
Charles stepped out from behind his father’s shadow. He grabbed my arm and spun me around, his other hand at my waist. My ribs ached from the corset and my panicked breaths made it worse. I wanted to struggle and fight, but I was certain it wouldn’t do me any good. Maybe it would buy me some time, but I wasn’t sure if I should risk it. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what Charles was going to do to me. I didn’t know what claiming entailed, only that it would make me his mate. Being his mate would lead to sex, and I didn’t want that.