Two weeks had passed and I’d nearly died a dozen times, especially last week on the night of the full moon when my wolf never left her furry form and wouldn’t let me transform to human. It felt like Dorian, Morgan and my brother were actively trying to kill me. I was due to leave for Death Mountain in a few moments and my brother wanted one last lesson with me.
“But I’ve already changed.” I motioned to my clean leather trousers and pristine bearin fur coat. Freshly killed last season.
My elder brother glared at me. “You’re too clean. Arrive with blood and dirt on your clothes and it shows how hard you’ve been working. Make the other women fear you.”
He had a fair point. What made my brother the lead trainer for the alpha was this, the mental games he taught people to play in order to win fights.
Get in their head and twist things to distract them or blow them off their game. His advice came back to me.
I sighed and pulled off my fur coat, showing the small strip of fabric over my breasts. As shifters, we went in and out of our wolf form so often it was easier to just tie a strip of cloth over things than to keep ripping expensive tunics.
The members of my village gathered round us, pounding the ground in encouragement.
I grinned: they’d been really supportive of me lately and it meant everything to me to have them standing behind my bid to be winner of the Queen Trials.
I waited for Morgan or Lola to enter the circle and spar with me, but it didn’t happen. Instead, the circle opened up and Dorian himself stepped inside, tunic-less and wearing a loin cloth.
Oh Hades.
I’d fought men in our pack before. Small disputes, or for training purposes, but … never a sparring match with the alpha.
I swallowed hard.
He held my gaze as he entered the circle and instead of protesting or asking what was going on, I cracked my knuckles, preparing for the fight. The pack went wild with howls, even in their human form, and stamped on the ground in excitement.
To my knowledge, the alpha had never sparred with a woman. Probably for fear of killing her.
I could sense my brother’s feelings without him having to even speak. We shared a pack link after all.
Dorian was bigger than me, and stronger. So I needed to use my smaller size and speed as an advantage.
The Queen Trials would be a mixture of human fighting, wolf fighting and weapons rounds. I didn’t know the details, but I needed to be ready on all fronts.
“Rules?” I asked my alpha as we circled each other. I didn’t want to hurt him and have him reprimand me in front of everyone and I also didn’t want him to come at me hard if we were just demonstrating technique.
“None,” he declared and then launched at me.
A yelp of surprise left my throat but my brother had taught me well. I instinctively dropped to my knees and threw my arm out, connecting my fist with the alpha’s groin. He grunted and fell forward, down to my level, and I took him to the ground easily. Yanking his ankle with one hard tug, he fell flat on his stomach. The pack screamed and howled in excitement.
Jumping on Dorian’s back, I put one arm around his throat and then tried to use my legs to pin his massive arms down, but it did no good. He stood, with me on his back, and then we were falling backwards. He body slammed me, landing his entire weight on top of me, and the air left my lungs in a rush. I couldn’t breathe, my arms going limp as he rolled off me and spun. His fists slammed into my face, stomach, and throat; a barrage assault that was so fast I couldn’t get my bearings.
“Use what you have!” my brother snapped.
I felt the dirt beneath my fingers and grabbed a handful, throwing it into the alpha’s face. He coughed and sputtered which gave me the chance to catch my breath and roll out from under him.
Time to wolf out. It was the only way I would have a chance. Changing to my wolf form left me vulnerable during the shifting process but he was blinded by dirt for the next several seconds, so it was now or never.
My bones started to snap and transform as the pain ripped through me. Being a shapeshifter and changing forms often didn’t make it hurt any less. It was excruciating every time, which naturally had given our kind a high pain tolerance. I was halfway through the shift when Dorian grabbed my leg and pulled.
My upper body hit the ground and then I was being hauled into the air as I completed my shift. I growled and snarled at him but he held me up like a pup as I wiggled and squirmed before him. The pain of shifting made my skin feel raw, but I stayed calm. Dorian landed blow after blow against my stomach, treating me like a punching bag. He wasn’t going full steam as this was a sparring match, so my ribs weren’t breaking, but I would be bruised pretty good.
In that moment, I remembered everything I’d learned while training with my brother over the years and in the past two weeks.
I suddenly went completely limp, my wolf’s head lolling to the side as if I’d passed out.
“Nice try,” Dorian snapped and sucker-punched me in the gut again while still holding me up in the air by the leg.
It took every ounce of control I had not to react to the punch. I knew Dorian was a respected fighter who valued honor: he wouldn’t ever beat on an unconscious person. It meant he’d already won. It was the one weakness he had, that he was a man of honor and never wanted the easy way out.
With a sigh, he laid me on the ground and addressed the pack. “I guess she—”
I sprang up in my wolf form and went right for his throat, nipping it lightly so that he would know I could have ripped it out had this not been a sparring match. When I landed back on the ground, I looked up to see the red teeth marks I’d grazed across his skin.
I held his gaze as the pack cheered and hollered, knowing I’d won the second I’d nipped his throat. In a real fight, he’d be dead.
Dorian grasped my wolf form by the armpits and hauled me up to stare into his yellow glowing eyes.
“Well done. You’re a force to be reckoned with, Zara Swiftwater, you always have been. Don’t forget that.”
It was the Dorian equivalent of I love you and I am proud of you, kid. Don’t die.
I nodded and he set me down.
With the pack slamming the ground and howling around me, I felt ready to go to the city with my brother.
I made quick work of saying goodbye to Oslo and everyone else. I didn’t want to get emotional right before our trip.
“Mind Amara until I’ve won, and then I’ll send for you,” I informed my baby bro. She’d already promised to keep an eye on him but twelve was the age of responsibility in our pack. He needed to learn to be on his own. No more babying him.
He gave me a curt nod, his eyes welling with tears and my heart squeezed.
“What if you … die?” he said as we stood in the doorway of our home.
Cyrus was outside waiting for me, so it was just the two of us.
If he were ten, I’d lie to him and tell him I wasn’t going to die. But he needed the truth.
I pulled him into a tight hug. “Then I will miss you the most because you are my favorite,” I told him and his arms wrapped around me in a death squeeze. “And you will be fine without me. Be tough and work your way up in the pack until you find a place that feels right.”
He nodded against my shoulder and I heard him swallow a sob.
I pulled back from him, not wanting to mother him too much. He was going to have to toughen up if he wanted to survive here without me. But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I wanted to take him with me, to hold him close until he was older and less sensitive.
We were babies when we lost our mother and father. Oslo and I had grown up together. Me and him against the world.
“Get inside and make some lunch for yourself, okay?” I said.
He nodded and wiped at his eyes and that was that. I couldn’t linger any longer.
Spinning, I walked over to meet my older brother. He was standing on the wolf sled with half a dozen pack members harnessed and ready to pull it.
If I didn’t need to take anything with me, I could have just shifted to my wolf form and walked to Death Mountain, but as a trial candidate with a coach, I needed clothing and weapons and more than my brother and I could carry alone.
“You baby him,” Cyrus scolded as I approached.
I rolled my eyes, tired of the same old argument. “Will Mena be okay with the twins while you’re gone?” I climbed up beside him on the wolf sled.
His wife Mena had just given birth to twin boys six months ago; I was sure she wasn’t keen on him leaving so soon.
“She’ll be fine. She’s strong and she’s got the pack.” He looked around at our small village and I followed his gaze. I loved Mud Flat village. Under the light dusting of snow we had now was an endless sea of cracked mud and there was not a soul for miles and miles. It wasn’t for everyone, living out in the middle of nowhere, but I loved the solitude and the company of just our pack. Other packs had to fight for territory but out here, in a place not a lot of people wanted to live, we had hundreds of miles to ourselves. There was nothing more freeing than running at lightning speed across the Mud Flats with no landscape to stop you. We were experts at survival in the elements and I didn’t need much to make me happy or comfortable, something I thought would serve me well at the Queen Trials. Rumor had it that in one of the Queen Trials challenges they tested your willpower and tried to wear you down by less than charming living accommodations. The people would not accept a weak queen in any aspect.
Our fellow pack wolves that were tethered to the sled took off then, and I gripped the bars at the sides to hold on. I was weary, covered in dirt and snow and my lip was bleeding but my brother was right. It would be an advantage to show up to the capital looking like this against those posh city wolves.
THE RIDE TOOK all day and part of the evening: we had to stick to the communal trails so that we didn’t encroach on any other packs’ land. We only arrived at the gates of Death Mountain well after supper time and my stomach was growling. Cyrus had been informed there would be some kind of welcome dinner and then all competitors would be given accommodations for themselves and their coach. I’d never been to Death Mountain. The city held no appeal for me. In the summer I slept outside in a hammock with Oslo so that we could look up at the stars. And even in the winter I went on long daily walks to keep my muscles lean and to stay tolerant against the cold. People in the city didn’t do that. They were too good for it, the softest of our kind. Their bodies were plumper and had less muscle definition. Food was brought to them on a platter. Fires were made and stoked for them by servants. Yeah, they could afford all the fancy training coaches but how they thought a strong queen would be chosen from this place was beyond me.
I glanced around as we entered the gates to the city. Death Mountain had been half carved out in an effort to mine for gold by early settlers. So when the wolven took over, they built the palace right on the plateau, halfway up the mountain. There was no army that could reach it without us knowing and throwing them to their deaths before they even got close to us.
We passed a small village of homes that were skinny but tall, some only ten feet wide but four stories high. Space was in short supply when building on a mountainside.
I stared at the opulent man-made city and felt the thoughts war inside of me. The wolf part of me thought the large lavish stone castle with sparkling gold inlay was a mockery to our kind. We were animals, we slept on dirt, not silk sheets. But the human part of me saw the desire for such necessities. We did spend half the time in these human bodies and they thrived with such luxuries.
The entire front entrance was packed with tents from travelers that had come in from the outlying cities and villages. We had left the wolf sled at the base of the mountain and hiked up together as a pack of eight, all representing the Mud Flats.
Some wolves came out of their tents to assess the newcomers and I made sure to stare each and every one of them down so that they knew their place.
Submissives quickly looked away while fellow dominants held my gaze for longer.
The smell of campfires and cooking meat hit my nose and my stomach growled.
Cyrus looked to the rest of our pack representatives. “Find a place for our tent and set up camp. I have to register Zara inside.”
They nodded and one of the more dominant females, Sasha, reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “Make us proud,” she told me in serious tone.
I nodded, trying not to let her words have an effect on me. Representing the Mud Flat pack in the Queen Trials was a huge honor.
Some would say we were the least likely to belong in a palace. We lived off the land, without running water or toilets, like they had in the city and other large towns. We hunted our food, we didn’t buy it from market stalls. But I would argue that made me the most likely to win a challenge of this kind. I was hardened by life and I fought every day to keep my place of third in a large pack of ambitious wolves.
As Cyrus and I weaved in and out of the tent city on the large grassy lawn of the palace, people stared and pointed at me. Some even held cards in their hands and marked things on them.
I peered closer at the cards as we passed and my stomach tied into knots.
Betting cards. On who would die first. At first glance it looked like over two dozen names.
Cyrus snapped, causing me to pull my attention to his hands and then he started to speak with his fingers.
Are you nervous to see the king? My brother used hand language to speak to me so that others nearby couldn’t understand. One of our packmate’s children was born without hearing, which was extremely rare for a wolf, but Tig couldn’t even hear the wind rustle. We designed the language in the Mud Flat pack so that we could communicate with him. It also proved useful at festivals and events where we didn’t want other packs to hear us with their sensitive ears. In wolf form we could share thoughts, but as humans, this was the best we’d come up with when unable to speak.
No. Why would I be? We were kids when I saw him last. A stupid crush. I moved my fingers quickly and my brother gave me a look that said, ‘I don’t believe you.’ To be honest I wasn’t sure I believed myself.
Just don’t let anything show on your face. I don’t want a weakness exploited by other contestants, he motioned with his fingers.
I nodded once but his words hit me hard.
I wouldn’t be affected by seeing Axil Moon … would I?
THE ROYAL MOON castle was everything I thought a castle would be. Full of servants and electricity and fancy tapestries and more food than I’d ever seen in my life. Cyrus and I had just checked in with the royal wolven advisors who were making sure we followed the rules during the Queen Trials.
“Enjoy tonight. Tomorrow morning the first trial starts,” one of the king’s advisors said to us.
The advisors were eight in total and descended from a long line of guides to the king. They were easy to spot as they all had shaved heads and wore the red robe that signified their status. Axil was the alpha king, but he did nothing without these men’s input.
I nodded curtly and then the advisor looked down at my clothing. “Would you like to be shown to your rooms? You can change before dinner.”
Cyrus spoke before I had a chance. “No, we’d like to eat now. It’s been a long journey and we aren’t concerned with fashion.”
The advisor seemed like he’d been slapped and I had to suppress a grin. The psychological warfare had begun. Cyrus was in his element.
“Of course.” The man in the red robe gestured to a pair of open doors.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Here is your champion number, Zara.” The man handed me a handwritten ticket and I glanced down at it to see the number one written in a big blocky style. There was a pin lanced through it.
The man looked at my chest as if indicating I wear the number. I pinned it on and he nodded in satisfaction.
Judging by the bustling room full of people, I was one of the last women to show up, but had still been given a number one ticket. Interesting. What did it mean? Were we ranked in our rumored abilities or was it just random? Mud Flats didn’t get much fanfare and although I was the most dominant female in our pack, I doubted I was the most dominant here.
It would take all the skills my brother had taught me to survive this thing.
As soon as we entered the room, I knew Cyrus had been right to demand I fight our alpha this morning. And to insist we not change our clothes.
The room was full of women in pretty silk dresses that kissed the floor. Their hair was tied up in glossy strands and their combat coaches, whether male or female, were dressed to impress as well.
Every single head turned in our direction when we entered and fear washed over at least half of their faces. Their wild stares ran the length of my blood-encrusted clothing, to the yellowing bruises on my face and stomach, and then to my brother who looked just as hardened from the trip.
Without a word of introduction or nicety we stepped over to a long table and stacked our plates high with meats, potatoes and bread rolls. I tried to take some sweets but my brother swatted my hand.
Fight tomorrow. No sweets, he hand signed.
I wanted to protest, but he was right. My body didn’t really like sweets: they felt good going down but always made me sluggish afterward and thirsty the next day if I had too much. We lived off the land in the Mud Flats and other than some wild berries, we didn’t have the kind of sweets they had here like cakes and cookies and things they sold at markets in the outlying villages. My body wasn’t used to them.
Passing through the crowd which had fallen silent, Cyrus and I looked for an empty table.
As we were walking by, a woman in a green dress with the number three pinned to her top plugged her nose.
“Pee yew, look what the Mud Flats dragged in,” she said in a nasal tone. “Clearly she didn’t get the memo about—”
I didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence; instead I snapped out with a jab to the side of her temple with my free hand and knocked her out cold. Her body crumpled to the floor like a bag of rocks. I looked up at the smartly dressed man who’d been standing next to her as a growl built in his throat. Her combat coach.
“Control your wolf or next time I’ll take her arm,” I told him.
Fur rippled down the side of his face but he didn’t move. I was well within my rights to shut that disrespect down.
Some of the other women gasped in shock at my behavior, but not all of them. One woman, wearing the number two pinned to her gold gown, merely watched me like a hunter watched prey. I needed to set a precedent that I would not take ridicule from anyone, but I realized I had also revealed to the others who their main competition was. Now they would have it out for me.
Oh well.
Cyrus casually took a seat at an empty table as if my outburst was an everyday occurrence and I joined him.
Good girl, he hand signed and I grinned as I began to wolf down my food. I ate like a wild animal, half starved. I had skipped breakfast and lunch and other than snacking on a few strips of smoked meat, this was the only meal I’d had all day.
As I was tearing into a tender piece of elkin meat, a sturdy blonde wearing a blue dress sat next to me. She reeked of floral perfume, which my wolven nose hated, and she wore far too much makeup. The number twenty-four was pinned to her chest.
“Welcome. My name is Eliza Green of Death Mountain pack. I just wanted to take a minute to introduce myself before we all try to kill each other tomorrow.” She gave a nervous chuckle.
I said nothing, continuing my meal.
“Wow. You really showed that girl who is boss. I don’t even know if we are allowed to start fighting yet, but that was pretty cool,” she added.
My gaze flicked up from my food and held her blue eyes as we locked in a stare. I was a good reader of people: this girl was way too nice to survive this thing. And she wasn’t being calculating, like trying to make an alliance only to kill me later. That did happen. There was a sweetness in her voice, along with an underlying nervousness. She was innocent.
“I’m probably going to be one of the first to go,” she prattled on. “But at least I’ll make my family proud, right? Sorry, I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
Cyrus snapped his fingers and I looked at him.
Don’t make friends.
I nodded, but I also didn’t want this girl to be the first to go.
“Do you want to die tomorrow?” I asked her flatly.
She froze at my words, maybe because it was the first thing I’d said after she introduced herself so nicely.
“Of course not. I want to make my pack proud. This is my home turf,” she replied seriously.
I dipped my chin and then leaned in closely. “Then stop being so nice to people. In fact, I want you to spit in the face of the next person that talks to you.”
She looked appalled at that and Cyrus reached out and pinched my thigh to stop me from helping her anymore.
“Now go away,” I snapped and a growl rose in her throat as she stood so fast that her chair fell back and crashed on the ground.
Now everyone was looking at us again.
Good.
I wanted them to remember the face that was going to be the last one they saw before they took their final breath.
I didn’t want to kill anyone, but this was our way. The chosen queen must be the strongest among us and that had to be proven in battle.
There was a motion at the front of the room and then everyone quieted and turned their attention that way.
I finished my bite and stood, trying to get a view of what or who they were looking at. The crowd parted and Axil Moon stepped into the room with his older brother Ansel and two advisors. The moment my gaze fell upon him, it was like I’d been kicked in the stomach. The air knocked out of me, my mouth popped open and it was like I was right back at the training camp all those years ago.
Axil Moon was no longer a boy, he was all man and I wasn’t prepared for it.
The sight pulled me suddenly into a memory of our time together at camp.
We’d been inseparable for a month and had gone swimming at the lake with our friends. I splashed the water playfully at fifteen-year-old Axil, causing him to grin, and do the same. I squealed when a ton of water doused my face and hair.
“Too far, Axil!” I growled and took off after him to retaliate. Our friends cheered me on as Axil swam quickly towards the floating tanning dock that bobbed in the center of the lake. We’d all been wrestling and sparring for a month. Axil knew I wouldn’t let him live this down without at least getting a good dunk in.
He laughed wildly as I struggled to keep up with him. He was a better swimmer than I was and he knew it. Our friends were now like little blips on the shoreline.
Axil reached the floating dock before me and I kicked harder, wincing when my leg cramped up sharply. I was a decent swimmer, but this lake was really deep and all of a sudden, I had to stop and tread water.
“Axil!” I screamed in panic: my playful anger at him was gone.
He took one look at me floundering and dove into the water, swimming for me harder than a fish.
My leg. Stupid cramp. I tried to keep my head above water, my wolf wanting to come out to protect us.
Suddenly Axil was there, hauling me into his arms. His eyes searched my face frantically. “What happened?” he asked as he pulled us towards the floating dock.
“My leg got a cramp,” I told him breathlessly as the panic left my system.
We reached the dock and he hauled me up, and I settled in his lap. He was holding the sides of my face, peering into my eyes with terror.
“I thought … Zara, I can’t ever lose you. I’m in love with you. Now. Forever. Always.”
The air was knocked out of my lungs.
“I love you too,” I murmured.
Reaching out, he stroked his thumb across my bottom lip and then I leaned forward and captured his mouth with a kiss. He opened his lips to deepen the kiss and our tongues intertwined as I leaned further into him. Since my parents had died, not a lot had made sense in this world. Why bad things happened to good people. Why I’d had such a hard life while others had it easy. But being here now with Axil, wrapped in the safety of his arms, it felt so right. It felt like home.
My brother cleared his throat next to me, pulling me out of the memory and back to the room at Death Mountain. I blushed, giving him an apologetic smile and then looked next to Axil to see Ansel Moon.
His older brother walked with a permanent limp, the only reminder of their fight for alpha king two years ago. Axil had won and now I saw why. He was a head taller than Ansel and bigger too. Axil had a scruffy beard which framed his chiseled jaw and his blue eyes were like arrows seeking flesh as they scanned the room and stopped at me.
I looked away on instinct and found that the woman in the gold dress was watching me with a grin.
Damn. I’d shown my hand, unable to hide that I was affected by seeing the alpha king.
Hopefully she would think I just found him attractive and not that we had a history together.
I could feel Axil’s gaze on me and so I took the opportunity to take off my fur coat and showcase my lean chiseled arms and abdominal muscles. I was still just wearing a cloth strip over my breasts and the low-slung tight trousers made of elkin leather. My body was dotted with dried blood, dirt and fading bruises as my wolven healing took care of this morning’s wounds. I looked like a warrior, forged in fire and blood, a far cry from the girl he once knew at fifteen.
When I turned to face him, he was passing by our table and looked like he’d seen a ghost. I held his haunted gaze and tipped my chin up high as if to say that I no longer cared that he left me broken-hearted at the training camp all those years ago. I wanted him to think he was barely a memory to me, a wisp in my mind that had all but disappeared.
But I wasn’t prepared for the agony that crossed his features. Pure misery was etched into his face and I swallowed hard, trying to process why he would seem that way upon seeing me.
Did he recognize me? I had grown into a woman myself, but I was still the same brown-haired girl he’d asked to dance with at camp.
He walked right up to me and his advisors pushed the crowd of other women back as his brother Ansel began to talk with them, giving us privacy.
I steeled myself for this interaction, for the chance to speak to him after he so cruelly left me without a word.
In every other culture you bowed before kings.
Not ours.
I held his gaze even when it hurt. As my breath hitched, I stared into his blue eyes for as long as possible, as he continued to hold mine in his line of sight. I knew from the moment that I’d met him, when we were fifteen, that he would be a future alpha, but I’d had no idea he was a prince and would one day be the king.
I wanted to show him now that I wasn’t the weak little girl from the Mud Flats that he and his brother thought I was back then. And I wanted the first words out of his mouth to be, I knew it would be you, I knew you would be the strongest among your pack. I had clawed my way to the top and now I had a chance to be his equal.
“Zara.” He breathed my name like a prayer and all rational thought left me. “I don’t know whether to be happy you came or horrified.”
I paled, not expecting that response. “Horrified? You … invited me?”
He swallowed hard and then leaned close, his familiar scent washing over me which caused a whine to build in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Lowering his voice to barely a whisper, he pressed his lips against my ear.
“Now I regret it. You shouldn’t have come,” he said and pulled away from me with a heartbreaking frown before he stalked off, leaving me in a world of hurt and confusion. This was not exactly how I imagined my reunion with Axil, but the bastard had clearly changed. He was no longer the sweet teenage boy I’d tongue kissed for hours under the moonlight while we’d dreamed up a future together.
Horrified to see me? Regretted inviting me? That fool was going to have some regret. I was going to make him regret the day he met me and every day thereafter.
Now I wanted to win this and to become his wife just to deny him every time he asked to bed me.
Wolven mated for life and were monogamous. I’d force the bastard into celibacy as payback for how he treated me.
Never underestimate a woman who’d been scorned.
