A Throne of Fangs

3 - Another Heir

He rushed the words out, or maybe I was just too slow trying to process what he could have been saying. It was as if he were speaking a foreign language. Not a word of it made sense.

"Isn't that exciting?" Bethany gushed, her hands clasped together; her face was cold.

I studied my dad. His face gave nothing away, but he looked anywhere but at me.

“I am your heir,” I managed out, my voice thankfully steady.

We were only a few generations separated from the first wolves turned to men, but none of the four packs had ever broken the line. The title was always passed to a direct heir, which was why it would go to me instead of any other relations we might have.

I was supposed to stay close to him, to take over when he passed. If and when I married, it would be for the pack. My husband would be a pure wolf but one that held no title. He would naturally come to live here, too, until it was our time to rule.

My dad glanced at Bethany, who opened her tight lips to say something.

I shot up, my chair screeching against the stone floors. "No," I cut her off.

"Sit," Bethany commanded, her voice losing the airy, docile tone.

I fixed her with an impassive yet fiery gaze. "You have no power here," I seethed, my voice crackling.

I was an Alpha, and she was just a desperate courtier who dug her claws slowly into power. Into my father.

"Anaya," my father chided softly, "be kind she is..." he trailed off.

"I am to be your mother." Bethany smiled at me from behind my father. Her soft, timid mask dropped, revealing her true wickedness for a brief moment.

I didn't know which of them to look at. "No," I mumbled. I wasn't sure if it was disbelief or denial.

Bethany placed her hand on her stomach. "I am carrying your sibling,” she said slowly as if she were explaining a new word to a child. You no longer have to bear the burden of the title; there will be another to rule.” She waved a hand. “I will have a boy eventually if this one ends up a girl." She frowned at her stomach as if it was the baby's fault it might be a female.

I composed my face into one I was familiar with, one I wore often. It radiated a cool, indifferent confidence that I learned from my father and enforced with my own. "My father ages, and I am ready," I said. "Your child is too young." I f.orced those words out, fighting past the hurt and probably misplaced betrayal.

My mother was d.ead, and my father had every right to remarry. I saw how lonely he was, how broken he was, even though he tried to hide it from me. But it was too soon, and I lost respect for him choosing her. It was one thing to bed her for some comfort, but to make any child of hers an heir?

I didn’t know this man. This wasn’t my father. It took everything in me to stay standing. I felt as if I had lost him like I did my mom, but it was worse because the good memories of him turned sour as he sat under that horrid woman’s claw-like grasp.

"Be that as it may, you have another duty to fulfill, Anaya," Bethany explained softly.

"And that is?"

"My dear, my daughter,” Bethany said with a pretty little smirk, still hiding behind my father.

I raised an eyebrow and snorted. My father looked at me in a ‘that’s not how we act’ type of way, but it didn’t have the same effect as it did when my mother used it on me. Plus, he was in no position to scold me anymore, and he knew that.

"It is an honor to form a stronger alliance for this pack. Do the duty that you were born for, the one that you should have taken if your mother were able to… well… do her womanly duty.”

Even my father stiffened.

"Don't you dare speak of my mother, your Luna, you conniving w.hore," I spat. Bethany took a step back, and her mouth opened. That small, real reaction satisfied me. "You are nothing. You are no one, and just because you bedded an Alpha doesn't mean that your blood or your bastard mean shit."

“Arthur,” Bethany said, mouth wide, looking at my father, but he said nothing.

“Whose decision was this?” I asked.

Neither of them spoke, I knew exactly who suggested this.

“Darling.” Bethany regained control of herself, but her features were tight. “This is a blessing. You won’t have to worry about the stress of running things anymore. Leave it to the men,” she tutted with a frown. “You are so pretty, and I see the toll it is taking on you."

“So I’m to be shipped off because you impregnated someone warming your bed?” I asked my dad directly. He shifted in his chair. I could tell that his discomfort was slowly turning to anger.

Bethany pretended she didn’t hear me. She rubbed my dad’s shoulders, beaming down at him. "You tell her what you arranged for her. It's such exciting news. I cannot imagine the balls in her name, in your family’s name. I have never been to the palace.” True delight shattered her mask, and I wanted to wipe it off physically.

"The palace?" I asked.

"Tell her, Arthur," she insisted.

My dad leaned over the table, clasping his hands, slowly dragging his eyes to mine. "You are to be married to the Prince," he explained.

I laughed. Loudly. This had to be a f.ucking joke. He was already betrothed.

"No." I laughed just to keep me from crying. "To be his second wife? Is this what we are now? Reduced to harems?" My voice raised, and I hated that Bethany was getting a reaction from me, but this was worse than I could imagine.

I wasn’t even getting my own husband. I was being sold to the prince as some second wife, a breeder, a s.ex toy.

"You didn't hear? His engagement ended," Bethany said. She lowered her voice as if she was telling me a great secret. "Apparently, she wasn't pure."

“Pure blooded?” I asked, curious despite myself.

There were few wolven families, and the records were kept well. I doubted that would be something that was a surprise. The King and Queen surely would have vetted any potential match.

“No, pure as in a v.irgin,” Bethany explained. My mouth hung open, and my dad reddened, looking away. “You have not taken a lover,” Bethany said more than asked, inclining her head toward me.

"So?" I shot back. I grew up as the next leader, the next Alpha. I would not be diminished to some accessory even if it came with a pretty golden crown. "I doubt he hasn't thrown his d.ick around with anyone that offered." And those who didn't, I thought, seething.

My dad gaped at me. Bethany even stilled for a brief moment, but I couldn’t tell if it was part of her demure act.

She spoke first. Apparently, she was the only one of the two that had anything to say anymore. "He wants someone pure in all ways. He needs heirs who will be his, without question. You know how important our blood is, and to the crown, it is even more than that. It is their divine right to rule, their untainted blood, that keeps them in power.” Her eyes looked far away, and I wondered if she truly believed that bullshit.

“I doubt their magical blood keeps them in power,” I muttered dryly.

“Oh, you have such a good sense of humor,” she gushed, lovingly stroking my father's arms.

"It was the best deal I could strike for you," my father finally spoke up. “The best deal we could ever have asked for. You will be royalty, living in the palace.”

I met him with my cool stare, I didn’t believe a damned word he said. "And the future of The Western Pack?" I asked.

"There is another heir on the way," he said, but his words sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well. "We can reassess…"

"Reassess when?” I demanded. “After you've auctioned off my virginity to the highest bidder? After I’ve forced out ten children for the crown?" My dad flinched.

Bethany's slender brows tugged together over a disapproving frown. "You are lucky to be…”

I turned on my heel and stormed out. The sound of my rushing blood blocked out anything else, but I welcomed the throbbing, overwhelming sound. It dulled out some of the rage and hurt. If only for a little while.

I waited for anyone to come to offer words of comfort or advice. For anyone to tell me this was a cruel joke or a miscommunication.

But I didn't hear from anyone, not even my father, until the morning I was to be shipped to the Prince.