Clara
Maybe that’s why the Alpha family had gone all out with the banquet hall. He might want to impress the elites from the Dark Shade – the most powerful and prestigious pack in the entire South.
An uneasy sensation turned in my stomach. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s my burning shoulder.
I entered through the doors with other lesser werewolves. The hall was meticulously cleaned. Elites like Griffin, Sisley and Lord Dover were given special trios on the second floor. I watched them enter the large balcony that jutted out like a perch – one could see everything that occurred on the floors from that position.
One lone werewolf stood behind the balcony’s black railing, watching everything. He was a tall older man with features I’ve associated more with a crow than a wolf. Everything about him was sharp: his eyes, his lips, his chin, and well-trimmed beard. He was the only one allowed to not conceal his claws. They were black and elongated. His arms were held behind his back in a pose of graceful savagery.
Our Alpha. Barnes Andelle.
The brutal murderer of my parents.
I saw Lord Dover salute and bow to the Alpha. Even from here, I could smell the oiliness of his flattering tones.
The Alpha’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if annoyed by this interruption. He nodded at Lord Dover, but did not speak. He was a werewolf of few words. I could see his lips move to greet his son and daughter-in-law.
The werewolves around me were all speaking at once, jostling each other, and snarling at one another. They could barely contain their excitement.
I craned my neck to hear the Alpha and Griffin better, but a shrill voice broke out on the first floor.
“Welcome, one and all to the mating ball! How lovely to see you all deep in the throes of lust and love! Oh, it reminds me of my own days when the males all chased us like we were rabbits scurrying from our burrows! How droll! How exciting!”
A woman dressed in electric pink frills, laces, and silk smiled at us with hungry eyes and lips.
Isabelle, the showy Matchmaker of the Moonstone Pack.
Her eyes were tinged with the tell-tale scarlet hue – she was deep in bloodlust.
I wanted to avert my eyes, but I had to make a show. I had to feign frivolous happiness at being invited.
For other werewolves, it would be a night of heat and fire. For me, it only meant another form of iron shackles. I was considered worse than an Omega, the lowest caste class. No doubt they intended me to be coupled to some lowly brute, another Lord Dover in my life to keep me broken and subservient.
I could smell the heat and the lust of both males and females around me.
They had sprayed sickly-sweet aphrodisiac drugs in the air to get all of us in a frenzy. Damp sweat and barely contained hormones hung thick in the air. The overly sweet scent of drugs mixed with the rankest of smells, and I wanted to retch.
I realized I could smell fresh blood as well. Even though the wound in my shoulder was beginning to dry and cake, my nails had dug too deeply into my own palms and dripped with blood.
Somewhere behind me a male young werewolf bayed with frustration, and it seemed like several others would join him. I felt sweat drip down my back. I could feel the eyes of them boring into my flesh. My dress bared my shoulders, and a tasteful slit snaked up all to way up to my thighs. I was on full display for every wolf to think impure thoughts about me.
It would be so easy for them to have their way with me.
Isabelle laughed and cleared her throat. “My lovely dears, as is in tradition of the gods and our great Lunar kin, you must show obeisance to our great leaders. Then after that – well, let us say that I will be eagerly awaiting the registration of so many newly mated couples.”
Isabelle smiled again. “Now, let this blessed event in the name of our Moon Diantha, begin!”
The werewolves all howled, and the heavy beat of drums thrummed through the darkened hall.
We had no need for lights, though some pale blue fires housed in onyx chandeliers were scattered through the ceilings of the hall. Our finetuned ability to smell was enough to be able to pick out where one wolf began and another ended.
We shuffled down a line that I could only explain as lambs queueing up for the slaughterhouse.
Werewolves looked up hopefully at the balcony. Perhaps they would catch the eye of our leader and impress him. For some dreamy fools in the lower caste classes, the mating ball was their only chance to be able to show the Alpha that they didn’t belong in the lower ranks.
I lifted my gaze and saw them on the balcony. Prince Griffin with his arms around Sisley’s waist. Sisley looking down in utter condescension.
The third was the Alpha, front and center.
I saw his cold yellow eyes meet mine for just an instant.
The bravado in me forced me to look back at him. My muddy brown eyes clashed with his bright yellow eyes. I could feel it all: his condescension and amusement. He didn’t fear me. His smile was tight and small, but ruthlessly triumphant. I could feel his nasty thoughts pound in my temples.
My stomach churned, and even though I felt myself on the verge of tearing up, I willed my body to not show a single emotion.
The perfect Alpha. The insidious and intelligent Alpha.
They told me every day that my parents had dared to kill the Alpha in some half-baked plot for power. I never believed it for a second, but that’s not how this absurd pack works.
He killed them in the most brutal way.
“Now, let’s welcome our Prince and Sisley for the opening dance!” The Matchmaker squealed. Her shrill voice brought me back to reality.
The werewolves behind me pushed me forward impatiently, eager to see it. I bit my lip in frustration. But I was unable to avert my eyes from the dancing pool.
“Observe our beloved future Alpha and Luna! Let your love shine as brightly as theirs!” Isabelle chanted.
Cheers and applauses spread across the crowds.
Part of me wanted to turn away, but another part greedily sought out the two intertwined figures dancing on the balcony. I could see Sisley’s perfect form stretching and twisting in perfection. She was always a good dancer – the best in our pack. I hated her guts, but it wouldn’t change the truth. She was beautiful. I saw Griffin’s hands curl around her thin waist and naked back. He too was the epitome of grace and perfection.
They looked just perfect.
My heart ached at the thought of this.
No, I must not think of that. I MUST not.
None of it mattered now.
In a few hours, the guards posted on the perimeter of the Bragne, the dwelling place of the Moonstone Pack, would be lax during the festivities. It would be the best chance for Elena and I to make our way out of the Moonstone Pack without any attentions.
We’ll be free. Elena beckoned with a strange song bubbling within her throat.
Yes, we’ll be free in a few hours. We’ll be free from this nightmare. We’ll be running in our true werewolf form and feeling the power of the moon coursing through our veins.
I lost myself in this reverie for only a moment, before someone touched my shoulder. I thought about the male young werewolf who had his lascivious eyes on me.
I whirled around and snarled without thinking, “Don’t even think about coupling with me, you slime!”
Clara I stared wild-eyed into the calm, pretty face of Hazel. She wore a crimson silk gown that accentuated her shining black hair. Red was after all the color of luck for us werewolves; it is the color of blood after a fresh, clean kill. The other color of luck was the deep dark blue hue that I clothed myself in. It was the inky indigo sky that the moon swims through. “Hazel, goddess above, I’m so sorry,” I said in embarrassment. Hazel smiled sadly at me. There was no blame in her pretty features, and a surge of guilt and sisterly affection rose like a rock in my throat. She turned me around, and I could feel her cool hands caressing my torn shoulder where Lord Dover had dug in his claws. “Was this the work of Lord Dover?” she asked in a low voice. “Who else?” I growled. “Come,” she said. “This won’t do. You can’t be battered and bruised tonight.” “Hazel—” I said, but she pulled me through the swath of werewolves. “You don’t need to watch,” Hazel said. She knew of the love
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
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