Clara
Who was him? How long had he been eavesdropping our conversation?
Hazel and I made no move or sound, but we both tensed up.
The werewolf yawned.
His beauty was ethereal and his movements foxlike. Unlike the muscular meatheads of our pack, this male seemed to prize lithe grace over bodybuilding. Yet, I could tell he was strong.
I had never seen him. He must be an outsider, a foreigner from another pack. And I did not recognize his exotic scent – there was a strange spicy aroma that I couldn’t place.
He drew out a long black pipe from his tunic and filled it with some kind of dried powder. Every movement was slow and calculated, as if he didn’t mind my growing discomfort.
Hazel gave a short but graceful bow. “I apologize for disturbing your repose, Prince Legiere.” She clasped my hand. “I wished to tend her wounds before the coupling began.” I could sense her body tense up, stiffened.
Prince?
He stretched and yawned again loudly. Once again, I was reminded of a crafty fox. There was nothing remotely like a wolf about him. “Just patching wounds? Silly me. I must have been too eager for all the action to begin. I thought the Mating Ball had started already.”
Hazel made a move to exit the room, but the werewolf raised his hand. His claws were mottled: black with streaks of silver. They weren’t as long as our Alpha’s black claws, but they were razor-sharp. His lazy voice suddenly grew cold. The sudden change in tone made my hackles rise once more.
“I didn’t dismiss you yet.”
He beckoned to me, and only now did I realize that the spice I smelled was unda, a type of mildly psychoactive herb. They were highly prized and notoriously difficult to grow, even in the Twin Canines where we lived. They only grew further south where the Ingrelle River split into the delta draining into the sea.
Hazel had called him prince, but I had no idea what pack he was from. I had never seen him once in my life, though in truth, why would a low-standing werewolf like myself even be personally acquainted with foreign royalty?
He gazed at me. “Come here, girl. I’m as high as a kite, and I need a pair of soft hands. Yours will do nicely.” When Hazel moved forward, he shook his head and sighed dramatically. “No, not you. The other one.”
Hazel and I exchanged looks. I wanted to ask a million questions, but her face was tense and expectant.
Go on, her eyes seemed to say.
I walked towards him warily. My guess was that it was just another Elite having a joke at my expense. He shook a small box and tossed it to me. I caught it. It was a black matchbox with no lettering. He stuck his pipe between his white teeth and lay back on one of the alcove’s cushions. It was a surprisingly spacious area that was shaped like a couch.
He must have been hiding behind the curtain all this time.
I opened the box and struck a match against its bristled side. An orange flame danced from the match, and I let its light descend on the crushed powder within the werewolf’s pipe.
He caught my wrist and traced my veins with one finger. “Mmm, you have soft skin. Like velvet. Ah, but your shoulder. Torn to shreds. What a pity.”
I pulled away my wrist quickly and snarled at him.
Unperturbed, he breathed in deeply and blew out one perfect halo of a smoke ring into my face. I coughed at the harshness of the spicy smoke. My eyes watered.
I gasped, “Ugh!” I couldn’t help my reaction. It was practically involuntary.
He barely flinched. “Isn’t it wonderful? I could smoke this for hours. Forget the cult of Diantha – this is one of our kind’s greatest inventions. Also, you talk! Incredible. I thought you had suddenly been struck dumb by the Goddess herself. Good. I like my women chatty.” A sly grin crossed his face.
We were nearly a hairsbreadth away from each other. It was hard to determine if I found him attractive or completely alien.
“Your women?” I asked incredulously.
Was he implying I would be his next lover? These bloody princes and Elites. They’re all the same, aren’t they? So confident in their conquests. A bunch of arrogant, overprivileged spoiled brats with minds full of rotten waste.
“To be honest, I enjoy both men and women. I don’t discriminate. Variety is the spice of life, isn’t it?” he said playfully.
Another rapacious flirt who seduced whoever had a pulse.
My thoughts must have spilled out on my face, because he laughed merrily. “What a terrifying face! If looks could kill, I would be buried deep under the ground right now. Perhaps I should say my grave rites to Diantha. May my feet never falter, may my eyes glow in the night hereafter, and may I have my head firmly planted in the ample bosom of Diantha. Now, I don’t really believe in all those gods or goddesses, but if Diantha exists, she must have the loveliest breasts in all the land.”
“Pig,” I muttered under my breath.
He took a deep pull of his pipe and breathed out. Even though his manner was easy, I could see something dangerous flash in his eyes.
“Now, now. There’s no need for names. Once we get to know each other better, I’m sure you’ll find me quite irresistible. They all do.” He patted his lap, and he was back to his languid self. “Here. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable? I’m told I make a very pleasant seating arrangement. Careful, I might poke you in the middle.”
I noticed his erection and made a sound of disgust. Did this repulsive male actually think I was going to sit in his lap like some paid whore?
“To whom? Your imaginary friends in your sick head? Or did you smoke so much unda that you actually consider yourself charming and not some pompous ass that smells like burning mushrooms? Gods, the stench!”
I couldn’t take it anymore, and I pinched my nose to save my soul. Was he even a werewolf? Did his sense of smell burn away the day he first smoked this vile herb?
Poor forgotten Hazel quickly ran up towards the alcove and took my hand firmly. “We should go,” she said urgently. She gave a curtsy to the werewolf, and half-ran, half-dragged me out of the room.
I turned back to look at the werewolf with fine features. Wisps of smoke surrounded him, giving him the look of some sorcerer deep in his witchcraft. A sly grin was on his face, and he continued to lazily exhale smoke rings.
“Going so soon? Well, it doesn’t matter. We’ll see each other again, won’t we, Clara?”
How did he know my name?
My heart pounded. Hazel and I fled the room, though I wanted to demand how he seemed to know me. I didn’t know a thing about him, except that he was clearly a spoiled Elite.
“You called him Prince Legiere,” I said to Hazel, but she barely relented. She was heading straight to the ballroom where we needed to be.
“Gods,” she whispered, more to herself than me. “We shouldn’t have been there. How could I been so stupid? Why would he be in there, instead of with the other Elites?”
“Hazel. Hold on. For goddess’s sake, Hazel!” I stopped her from pulling my arm. “Who in hells is he?”
She looked at me, shaking her head. “Do your best to never pique his interest, and never, ever insult him to his face again. Trust me, Clara. He’ll eat you alive, then spit you back out simply because it amuses him.”
“Another arrogant Elite—” I began to sneer.
“NO!” she shouted. “He is not just any Elite!”
I flinched at Hazel’s yell in shock. She had never raised her voice with me in all the years I had been with her. She sighed and smoothed back one of my brown locks that had broken free of its jeweled barrette.
She spoke, “He is the undisputed Alpha of the Dark Shade. Deanneth Legiere. Oh Clara. I wasn’t joking when I said I always find you in trouble. This is my fault.” She hugged me close to her body, as if she wanted to shelter me from any danger lurking in the shadows.
I shivered.
Clara How could I be this ignorant? Girls in the line had talked about them. Dark Shade. Of course. They were the Elite of all the Elites. That absurdly wealthy pack in all of the Twin Canines. And Deanneth Legiere. He was their notorious Alpha. Like my parents, he was traitor to his pack. Only he was not only able to survive, but he also had succeeded in subjugating the most powerful pack in the entire South. He took over the pack from his elder brother Bruess Legiere who should have been throned after their late father’s death. He was a usurper. Just imagine how dangerous he would be. And I had just told him that he was a disgusting pig. My mind swirled with various thoughts and assumptions. I pondered on what I had just done and what it meant. My blood froze, my heart sank. A wild, heady feeling churned in the pit of my stomach. It was a mix of fear and self-destruction. I need to run. I have to run, now! I would run tonight anyway, and I just needed to prepone it. I tri
Trigger Warning: This chapter contains abuse, violence, and emotional relapse. Please read at your own risk. Clara Gerald was a monster of a werewolf with massive muscles; he was matchless in any one-on-one fight. They said that he had fought every Elite and lower class werewolf in the gladiator trials for physical supremacy, and he never lost once. I would be a fool if I thought I could defeat him. But it didn’t matter if I lost. I was dead anyway. If I wasn’t beaten to a pulp by the Lieutenant, then I would be taken to be questioned and tortured. At least I would go down on my own terms. I snarled at Gerald and threw myself at him. The stone was in my hand. A grim smile was on his face. The rock collided with his upper arm, as he raised them in time to block. Any lesser werewolf’s arm would have shattered instantly, but Gerald was built like a mountain. He lifted his giant fist and let it crash on my head – or he would’ve gotten my head, if I didn’t dodge just in time. Instead
Clara A crying child standing alone in front of a hall of werewolves. Rumors of betrayal. The yellow eyes of our Alpha as he sat in a highchair, listening to his advisers. Their urgent whispers. “Kill her too. Kill her before she grows old and takes her revenge. The seeds of treachery must not be allowed to take root.” “Am I that weak to need to kill a mewling child?” The matter was settled. The Elites and advisers all spoke at once in consternation and shock. An ambitious red-haired werewolf with a goatee put himself forward. His tones were flattering. “Let me take her as a ward, then, my Alpha. I shall house her until you decide what to do with her.” “I have already decided, Lord Dover. But do as you wish.” The tall werewolf then stood up and stared down at me. I saw his claws. They dripped with blood. The scent of blood in nostrils. Sharp and bitter. Pungent. Spicy? Why did it smell like spice? Oh gods, why did it smell like burning mushrooms? ** I groaned and tried t
Clara Freedom? I could barely believe what I was hearing. The Prince of the Dark Shade pack had played a card game to grant me my freedom? Why? And why in hells would our Alpha of the Moonstone Pack even agree to it? I must be still dreaming. I could see the Lieutenant angrily pacing the floor, as Prince Legiere unlocked the iron gates of my cell. He waltzed inside the gates and took off my gag. I gulped in air greedily. My head felt light, and I didn’t have it in me to give sarcastic commentary. Gerald had beaten that out of me quick enough, and I wasn’t stupid enough to do it again. The Alpha Andelle had watched these proceedings in silence until now. “You are free to have her, but I wonder what exactly you plan to do with her? Surely you were not serious about making her your mate?” he asked. “Concubine,” Prince Legiere said brightly. “I already have a destined mate for me back at home waiting for me. I’m sure she and my lovely brother would be quite sad to hear if I had sud
Clara Servants scurried in and out of the Alpha’s mess hall with plates of hot food and drink on wooden trays. Pale gleams of light flowed in from the large windows on all sides. There were several tapestries and paintings that told the story of the Andelle ancestors. The tantalizing smell of appetizers and entrees made me drool, but I found that I couldn’t relax enough to shovel food in my mouth like I usually did. Not with the Alpha, Sisley, Prince Griffin, and Gerald in the same room with me. Prince Legiere gently tugged at one of my loose brown braid to get my attention. I stared angrily at him. I wanted to throttle him. “No,” I said with gritted teeth. He was smiling and holding a spoon of piping hot porridge mixed with sweet milk, scallions, and seared pork rinds. It smelled absolutely delicious, and my stomach rumbled in agony. Gladly would I have tried to take a bite, but not in this embarrassing manner. “Don’t be like that. Say ‘ahhh.’” I turned my face away at the last
ClaraAlpha Andelle steepled his clawed fingers together and gazed at Prince Legiere. “If you would excuse my son, it appears that he still has not learned the delicacy required in such private matters.”Griffin tensed, but Sisley put her hand on Griffin’s arm to calm him down.Emperor Barnes Andelle went on, and his yellow eyes were scathing. “Perhaps the fledgling prince has given you the wrong impression about the girl. It may be true that at the time, she was too young to have been involved in the plot against me. However, her actions three nights ago speak of a guilty conscience. She fled when I had extended her an invitation to the mating ball. She attacked an Elite member of my pack. I caution that you think twice about this arrangement of spiriting her away from our pack.”“A guilty conscience?” I cried out. “You left me to rot with these people who did everything in their power to make my life a living hell. Every single werewolf in this pack, everyone, treated me like a cont
Clara Sisley had been watching me, and she spoke, “Careful, step-sister. Your murderous intent is plain on your face. Perhaps my little brother couldn’t finish the job, but I assure you – I can and I will if you make one wrong move.” Elena hissed and bared her teeth, but I shut my eyes as if to shut out her presence as well. We need to stay calm, I told Elena. We’ve learned so much, and I can’t stupidly try to take on the Alpha, the Lieutenant, and Sisley all at once. Prince Legiere whistled and then burst into laughter. “Hotheads both of you! Like brother, like sister. There’s a saying in our pack that redheads are doomed with short tempers. You realize that you’re threatening my concubine, don’t you?” Sisley glared at Prince Legiere. “I’m quite curious about what your brother and future mate would say about all of this, Prince Deanneth? Did they approve of you sneaking out of Khordon with just two of your bodyguards to have a pleasant stay in Bragne? Or will the messenger hawk th
Trigger warnings: disturbed individual and violence against pups. Please DO NOT read if you can't handle it. Thanks! Clara Someone pounded frantically on the door to the mess hall. “My Lord!” screamed a voice. “Please! Help!” The Alpha strode forward. Black hair bristled and grew like weeds all over his skin. His face extended into a pointed snout. He threw open the doors, and a terrified bloody werewolf lurched forward. Hazel ran up to him. It didn’t take a Royal Healer to know that the werewolf was going to be dead in seconds. The entire right side of his face was torn clean off, and I winced as I saw his exposed tongue and brains. He tried to speak, but then he collapsed in a puddle of blood on the floor. Another guard beside him gripped his left arm – or what was left of it. He quivered like a scared pup. It shocked me to see a grown guard of the Bragne in such a state of terror. “T-they’re monsters,” he whimpered. “They stormed the garrison. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Half o