The Wicked Wolf

Six

*three hours and seven minutes before being taken*

There have only been a handful of times in the history of my family where a Rhys loses their control.

This is one of those few times.

I physically feel the moment where I snap and break, completely overcome with this raptured and uncontrolled wildness burning deep within me. Every other time this happens, I am quick to snuff it out. But for once, I wasn’t going to ignore it. I was going to unleash it.

The mask of indifference I’ve been taught to hide behind splinters and I have had enough. I felt humiliated and hurt… I felt hungry for revenge.

Forcing the tears that threatened to fall back into my eyes, I grit my teeth almost painfully.

I have never cried before.

This will not be my first.

“Are you quite finished?” I asked, opening the door wide enough that it slammed against the wall with a loud bang.

It makes the two breathless figures in front of me jump, looking up from their moment of passion. Both their faces were red, but it wasn’t from embarrassment. No. It was red because of overexertion.

“Vasilisa!” Hugo calls out, but he doesn’t bother to step away from the girl nor does he make a move to cover himself up. He stood there, hair a mess, shirt rumpled and his pants still below his knees.

Instead, Hugo, my beloved betrothed, watches me with a sheepish look that boils my blood even more. He must have expected a look of hurt on my face or something along those lines, but I knew what he saw when he looked at me. He saw a smiling, amused woman and this made his expression fall.

He didn’t need to know that it was so painful to smile at that moment because, in truth, I was hurt.

Terribly hurt.

I wasn’t going to show that though. No one deserves to see my pain.

But I was certainly going to wield it.

As if it was merely an afternoon tea I walked in on, I made my way to them, biding my time, my heels clicking against the floor the only sound in the warm room.

I didn’t think about what I was going to do but there in my white wedding gown, in my high heels, I unleashed the strength of a million werewolves as I yanked both of them to the floor and proceeded to stomp on Hugo, the woman, and then both of them again at the same time with the same heels I planned to marry him in. Over and over and over, I did this until the fire in my veins calmed, and their blood was everywhere.

I was neither man, woman nor beast in my controlled violence, letting out a wrath unlike any other. And despite all that emotion, I made sure that each hit I delivered on them was perfectly timed, perfectly placed and strategically done. Because I was already getting my hands dirty and bringing down hell, I had better make sure it’s in the way that my father would approve of. Always an art. Always beautiful. Always perfect.

Try as I must, I did not feel the least bit guilty as I continued on.

They deserve it.

This woman for sleeping with him knowing full well he is engaged to another.

Hugo for proudly telling everyone he is betrothed to me, to a Rhys, only to sleep with another.

And lastly, I deserve to have this moment, to feel something else but the betrayal of my betrothed.

I stared down at my gown. Blood splatters were all over the white fabric and when I touched the warmth on my face, on my arms, I noticed its blood too. It didn’t bother me as I stood over Hugo and the woman. I’m sure there are plenty more like her and she will not be the last.

Hugo groans from beneath the heel of my shoe and I find that I am disappointed that he’s alive. Not that I was trying to k i l l him. But he was so worried about being second, I decided to prove him right. He is second. And after today, he will always be second.

Surprisingly, I find a calmness wash over me and a smile, a genuine one, curves my lips. The crushing pressure that I have been feeling leading up to this day seems to have lifted from my chest, the worry of my future— of our future is gone, replaced by a certainty.

Now, I am sure we weren’t going to be a normal, happy mated couple.

We were going to be like everyone else in my family.

And at least I knew what to expect. I didn’t need to make an effort in our relationship anymore.

Like gravity pulling me to him, I turned towards the door and noticed for the first time that he was there, watching. He had seen it all. The Wicked Wolf did not speak, his face unreadable, but his eyes, the color of flames on a hearth, were warm and inviting, keeping away the chill of the darkness.

An overwhelming feeling that I cannot decipher goes through me at the sight of him. Suddenly needing air, I ran to the balcony and, without a second thought, jumped down from it. The fabric of my skirt flutters and flies everywhere, but I still land gracefully on the grass. Feeling stronger than ever, I make my way to the dark woods with my hands clutching my skirt, but I feel those eyes again and when I look back, the Wicked Wolf is watching me from the balcony with an intrigued look on his face.

The wind blew his hair over his eyes and it was so hard to ignore how imposing he looked even by doing nothing.

Breaking eye contact, I made my way deeper into the woods. I welcome the darkness and the shadows, taking deep calming breaths. I needed time to build back my broken resolve, but I was not alone for long because I heard him approach. At the mere sight of him, it feels like he takes away my ability to breathe all over again.

I brace myself, preparing for the laughter and the ridicule about my betrothed and his betrayal, but he does neither.

“I didn’t know Rhys’ were allowed to jump.” He says with a hint of amusement, his eyes dark and impossible to read.

I frown at him, annoyed at how ridiculously attractive he is even in the shadows. The last thing I need right now is to be attracted to him, so I make sure to give him my nastiest glare. “What?”

He leans against a tree, his arms crossed and his muscles ever visible. “Not even your brothers could jump out of the window like that.”

It wasn’t hard to notice the mocking tone in his voice, picking on my family and our rules that stopped us from doing anything that wasn’t deemed perfect.

“It’s true what they say about you,” He continued, his eyes darkening slightly.

I decided to humor him, already having an idea about what was whispered behind my back. “And what do they say about me? That I’m a rebel? That I’m not as good as my sisters?”

He smirks wickedly, and it makes me forget about everything if only for a little bit. “That you’re a wild one.”

I physically have to fight off the burst of warmth that travels down my lower stomach. Instead of it sounding like an insult, he made it sound agreeable, something enticing.

"The best of them," He added darkly, the tone of his face sending a buzzing thrill through my veins.

I quickly dismissed this topic and changed it before I felt anything more than hatred for him. “How did you know?”

The Wicked Wolf arches his eyebrows, and it sends a chill up my spine. He had every right to k i l l me, my lack of respect for his position is evident, yet he doesn’t do anything. He looked almost entertained to see what reactions he could get out of me. “Know what?”

“Know that Hugo was…” I foolishly couldn’t finish the sentence.

He hesitates, his eyes watching me closely. For a second he looked reluctant to hurt me with whatever he knew, but there must have been something on my face that makes him answer truthfully. “It’s common knowledge.”

A bitter, humorless laugh leaves my lips. “Of course it is.”

Hugo’s womanizing is even common knowledge to a King who keeps to himself.

It stung. It really did.

How is it fair that I spent my entire life dedicating myself to Hugo and I don’t have the same from him?

We were arranged to marry when we were two years old, but it was planned way before that. Since we were two, it has been us. He was so happy with our match as well, at least from what he showed me and everyone else. We weren’t romantically together, not in the way the other werewolves were, yet everything I am has been to be the perfect mate for him. He should just have told me instead of allowing these lies to continue. I would have accepted that at least.

And now I'm the last one to find out that he wanted everyone. Absolutely everyone and it was common knowledge that he did.

How could he do that to me? It wasn’t even because we were promised and betrothed. More than that, I thought we were something, could be something, because he made me believe we could be.

A thought hits me. If it's common knowledge, did that mean my sisters knew? And if they knew, why didn’t they tell me? Why didn’t they-

Suddenly, I looked up at the Wicked Wolf who was still leaning against a tree, having not moved a muscle. His eyes were still on me, waiting and observing. Fire burned in his gaze, warm and conflicting and clear.

“My sisters,” I began, hating how I cringed. “Do they know?”

The Wicked Wolf looked surprised at my question, like he didn’t expect that I cared for my sisters. He probably knows how our father constantly compares us and pits us against each other. How life as a Rhys is always to better the other. “I doubt they know. Everyone else, however,”

Relief took the weight off of my shoulders a bit and for a moment there was silence between us, the only sounds came from the wildlife of the woods. The delicate breeze whispered through the air, carrying with it the sweet fragrance of blossoming flowers.

Still, the Wicked Wolf made no move to leave me or break the silence, continuing his silent stare that should unnerve me, but it didn’t.

My eyes focused on the mansion up ahead. Behind the Wicked Wolf, who stood almost protectively between the dark brick palace where Hugo lives and where I stood hidden in shadow, was my home. My future.

Hugo’s pack is beautiful and modern, situated in the part of the country where it is always spring time with flowers blooming all year round.

It was truly an impressive sight, the glow of the lantern lights and the dark architecture of the mansion were gleaming even in the night. Hugo’s mansion is hidden in thick woodlands and is one of the biggest in the world, able to house my entire pack in it. It is large, too large for anyone’s needs in a home, but they were the strongest pack, and they deserved its enormous size.

Even from this distance, I could see the wide windows that showed the excited partygoers dressed in their best clothes and all waiting eagerly for Hugo to be announced as the new Alpha and for me to be his Luna.

His Luna.

It made me want to pull my hair out, but what could I do? I didn’t want to marry him like this. But I didn’t have a choice. None of us do.

There was nothing left but to go back, to face it and move on like any Rhys would do.

Hugo and I used to be everything, at least to me, and now we are nothing. It is just hard to grasp, but I suppose I can live with that.

I didn’t allow myself another thought, another breath, forcing everything in me to take a step towards the mansion, to my future that had been decided for me long before I could understand what it was.

But this is the time that the Wicked Wolf moves, blocking my way with a look that was bone chilling. “Where are you going?”

I had all the intention of lashing out at him but if I did, I feared I might lose the little control I had left over my emotions and break down. So I held it all back and stared into those blazing eyes of his. “I have to go back.”

He had the look of a wild beast in his eyes, angry and waiting to be unleashed. “To Hugo Bastian?”

“To my duty.” I told him factually and monotonously, reinforcing the hold I had on my fluctuating emotions. With the last of my strength, I put all my pride in my next words. “I have to be perfect. I have to be… a Rhys.”

Somehow, I could tell what he was thinking.

How I was taught so well, almost too well, and that at that moment, I looked painfully like my father— the man he obviously hated.

He looked so surprised, so disgusted.

But it shouldn’t have surprised him. I was my father’s favorite for a reason.

And yet, why did he look so angry when I told him I was going back?

I put my head up, swallowing back everything else I was feeling and ignoring how I had blood on my face, on my arms and on my hands. With my hair out of its perfect curls and flying everywhere, I walked away in my bloodied wedding dress like there was not a single problem in the world.

As I disappear into the woods, I know he is watching me, but he also doesn’t stop me.

But I do hear a quiet;

“Oh, Miss Rhys.”

~The Wicked Wolf's POV~

The youngest Rhys had blood splatters all over her white gown, her hair falling weightlessly down her back in thick waves. She stood tall over the two bloodied bodies under her foot, her posture exuding confidence and poise even after everything she saw and heard. She had a flawless complexion that seemed to glow with a natural radiance under the moonlight. Her golden eyes, always hooded and guarded, were like pools of warmth and coldness all at once, their vibrant color drawing attention wherever she went.

In the darkness of the room, I could still see how her long lashes framed her eyes, fluttered with a delicate grace as she surveyed the two bodies beneath her with a look of disappointment like she had hoped they would put up a better fight or disappointed because they were still alive.

It set my blood on fire.

A wave of calmness came from her at that moment. She did not look angry or betrayed or scorned. She looked at peace, her lips, soft and inviting, curving into the briefest smile.

I haven’t seen her smile.

And it was disarming.

I did not know a single smile, barely even considered a smile, was capable of softening something inside my chest.

But there it was.

She turns, noticing me for the first time. Without a word from either of us, she is suddenly running out to the balcony, still in those high heels, and throwing herself down from it. For a split second, all I could see was white and then nothing.

My interest ever peaked, I ran after her. Grasping the railings of the balcony and looking down the five floors that she dropped from, I see her walking towards the woods, hands holding her dress up, her hair the color of honey blown by the wind and eyes glancing back at me.

Her golden eyes beckoned to me, the wildness underneath all that beauty shining through.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m already following suit, jumping from that same balcony and landing on my feet with ease.

Deep in the woods with the moon high above the sky, she whirls back upon hearing me approach. The shadows of the trees were dancing along her smooth skin, her eyes brighter than the moonlight above.

They were all beautiful, like the Gods and the fairytales they were named after, but this one. Vasilisa. She made it more than just beauty.

But how could I forget that she’s a Rhys.

One of them.

For behind that pretty face was a poisonous snake waiting for the right moment to strike.

I was doomed.