THE ROGUE PRINCESS (Callie's Story)

PRINCESS IN HIDING

(CALLIE’S POV)

People always drone on and on about how they always feel like they never belong anywhere, and while I was a part of those people, in my case, it was nothing but the absolute truth.

A Lyken among werewolves.

That was what I was.

Seventeen long years had passed since the day my mother was brutally taken from me, murdered right before my eyes by that brute of a bastard, Berlon, who now calls himself King of all the realms and sits on her throne.

In her absence, my life has taken a different course… one that I certainly couldn't have imagined as a child who had believed in the beautiful promises of her wonderful, loving parents. You would think that being a wee child of just three and a half years old, I would have forgotten all about those precious memories by now, but even at twenty, they still continued to haunt me, both paradise and hell at the same time, taunting me of what could have been, reminding me of what life and the fates took from me.

We had long given up on the promise of returning home.

I was raised by my aunt, Anaya, and her husband and mate, Xavier, in the werewolf realm, where it was much safer to be.

They were Lykens like me but they had managed to shed their own past lives, forgetting all about it to embrace the lives of mere humans living in a supernatural realm, all for my safety.

When I’d broken the news of my mother’s death to them all those many years ago, Aunt Anaya and Uncle Xavier had faked their deaths, and they had had our identities changed and our true scents suppressed, and while their Lyken halves had been subdued as well, mine had refused all of the witch’s attempts to keep her down. It was the reason why no one could sense what I was, while they passed for humans. At least no one knew anything else, or even suspected that I was the long lost princess.

And why would they?

To the best of their knowledge, Princess Callaghan was dead.

And even with my terrible temper, I always made sure to ensure that it stayed that way, because truly, my family had sacrificed a lot for me.

Take my aunt Anaya, whom I now called mother to avoid any suspicion, for instance. She had given up her birthright as a Lycan Princess to protect me from the relentless pursuit of those who sought me, wanting to completely obliterate my mother’s bloodline.

I often caught glimpses of regret in her eyes when she thought I wasn't looking, you know?

And I knew that I was the only reason why she wasn’t going out on a whim to save her only blood relation left after me.

And as for Uncle Xavier, whom I called father, he had told me himself with a teary glint in his eyes and a proud smile on his face how he had made a promise to my real father, Reed Alderon Winchester, the Alpha of the werewolves and the King of the Lykens. He had told me how my father had made him swear to protect me above all else and at all costs, and though he continued to assure me that this was a choice they’d make in a heartbeat should they have to decide again, I still couldn’t bring myself to believe them.

I felt like a huge burden.

All my life, I’d felt like a burden.

My life in the werewolf realm had certainly not been an easy one.

Talk about a true case of ‘from grace to grass’, Uncle Xavier and Aunt Anaya had chosen to live very modestly, deciding that poverty would be the best way not to draw any attention to ourselves. And so we lived in a small, hidden cottage on the outskirts of the realm, far from the packs and the prying eyes of those who might recognize me.

Unfortunately for me, that only made me an outcast among the werewolf children, who bullied me relentlessly for being ‘human’ and for the tiny fact that my family couldn’t afford all the fine clothes and possessions that they had.

Every dress I wore was either a simple hand-me down from the realm’s charity center, or one that my aunt had managed to sew herself, and as for food, we lived off uncle Xavier’s rather measly farm. My life then was truly miserable, and you want to know the sad or rather infuriating part?

The fact that I was not allowed to fight back.

My aunt and uncle had strictly warned me not to confront any of my bullies, fearing that it would draw attention to us and reveal my true identity.

Despite my many complaints, the best thing they’d do was get me a luxurious gift, one that our status couldn’t afford, like dolls when I was younger, then necklaces and books when I grew older, but the real root of the problem was never addressed. They’d only plead with me to endure, to just keep quiet and let them have their way with me, assuring me that soon, it’ll all pass.

With time, I stopped telling them about it all together.

It seemed like the ultimate betrayal to hear people you hold in rather high esteem tell you to your face to give up and allow yourself to be subdued, didn’t it?

But one can only take so much.

My last encounter with my bullies had been when I was fifteen. Five boys, older than me… they had surrounded me, making fun of my clothes, and when their ridicule wasn’t met with any reaction on my part, they became bolder, became more violent, tearing at my shirt, hinting at the possibility of doing more…

Something had snapped within me that day.

I fought back, delivering some pretty amazing wounds too, totally shocking them to their bones. Who would have thought that the weak little ‘Yara’, as everyone knew me as, had it in her?

I won’t lie, I’d been scared shitless.

That was the first time my temper would get the best of me that strongly. It made me break my uncle and aunt’s very important rule and I was terrified that we would face the repercussions of my stupid folly, but to my surprise, none of them reported me… not to their families, not even to mine…

I guess in a way, when you look at it, it’s pretty embarrassing to admit to someone that a girl had bested not one, but five boys at once.

Whatever their reasons were, I was grateful, for it became our little secret, and from that day on, they never dared to touch me again.

“Yara!”

I jumped up with a start at the mention of my name, only to see my aunt Anaya looking down at me, concern all over her face, “Are you okay? I’ve been trying to get your attention for ages.”

I rubbed my eyes vigorously, nodding at her, “I’m okay, mother… I was just lost in thought, that’s all.”

Even in our homes, we didn’t have the luxury of being able to let our guard down, we still kept the charade, where my aunt and uncle were my parents and I was just ‘Yara.”

It was too dangerous.

“Are you ready to leave?” Her gaze was sympathetic as she looked at me.

Frankly speaking, I didn’t know.

Was I ready to go and see all the horrors my real father endured under Berlon’s hand another more year?

Who could ever be ready for such a thing?

So, my father was still very much alive.

And every year for the past seventeen years, Berlon had this rather vile tradition of parading him across the streets of all five realms to remind everyone just how powerful he was, to remind everyone of the unachievable feat he had managed to overcome, while renewing loyalties. My father was tortured, kept locked up in a cage, and being the only time in a year that I got to see him, I made sure to never miss it.

But what was the point going to see him if it meant enduring weeks of sorrow and tears?

Wouldn’t it just be easier if I pretended he were dead?

“Look, Yara…” My aunt touched my shoulder lightly, sitting beside me on the huge boulder that overlooked our measly farm, “If you do not want to go this year, I completely understand,” She said softly, emotion behind her tone. I knew she wanted to say more, but it was not safe, and so she only said, “Xavier and I will go without you.”

I watched her stand up and leave, wondering how she was always able to stand among the crowd and watch her brother go through all of that torment.

I knew it wasn’t as easy for her as she wanted to let on, because I had caught her shedding a few tears when she thought no one was looking, but… I just wondered why she wasn’t pressed to do more.

Oh how I wished to be like her sometimes.

To pretend that I was dealing well with everything, to give nothing away except for when I was all alone.

I sometimes wished that I had the power… that I had the strength to make things right.

To save my father.

But what could a single girl, no matter how fierce or determined, do against the tyrant, Berlon? He had squashed every form of resistance, silenced any voice of dissent, and instilled fear in the hearts of all who dared to oppose him after all, making sure that absolutely no one could challenge his reign.

Any reckless act on my part would only endanger my aunt and uncle, the only family I had left, given that my father was as good as dead.

I couldn’t risk their lives like that.

By the time aunt Anaya and Uncle Xavier came out of the modest two-bedroom cottage we shared, I was already on my feet, waiting for them.

“I’m coming with you,” I said.

*******

The sun was already starting its descent, casting a deep orange glow over the luxurious houses and bountiful fields as we silently made our way to the palace of the new Alpha of the Blue Valley Pack, to witness Berlon’s annual elaborate carnival of the mockery of my father, each one of us lost in thought.

I couldn’t help but think of Aunt Anaya and how she had once lived within those very walls as I stared at the plush palace. She had told me stories of those times when I was younger, of how she had come to the Pack to monitor the then Alpha and his Council of Elders, who had all pledged their loyalty to my father.

How everything had changed now.

The entrance to the Palace was filled to the brim with people, and their loud yells and agitation made me realize just how far away I’d drifted from my aunt and uncle. The crowd was massive, filled with those who pretended to be jubilant for Berlon's sake, even though, deep down, they knew that the kingdom had done nothing but deteriorate under his rule.

I turned and tried to trace my path back to my family, but the crowd was so tightly packed that it was impossible.

It didn’t take long for me to realize just how close I had drawn to the frontlines, and my heart raced as the proximity between myself and the cage that held my father dawned on me.

I had never gotten this close before.

Aunt Anaya and Xavier never allowed me to.

Tears welled in my eyes as I took in the emaciated man with the long, shaggy hair and beard…

My father was a mere shadow of the powerful man he once was. From the endless wounds on his body, and the way he looked so sickly, it was obvious that his Lyken side was being suppressed.

His eyes had lost all light in them, he looked dead inside, and he also seemed to have aged completely.

Everything went silent in my head even as the crowd jeered and taunted him, even as Berlon reveled in the spectacle, his cruel laughter echoing through the square, even as the guards flung their whips at him, reopening his barely healed wounds.

Even before it registered in my head, my legs were carrying me closer and closer towards the cage.

“ENOUGH! YOU HAVE COME TOO CLOSE, GO BACK!” One of the guards shouted in my face.

I started backtracking at the harsh command, but then, something shocking happened.

My father, for a brief moment, lifted his head and met my gaze.

In those eyes, which had seen so much agony, there was a flicker of recognition.

The moment was fleeting, but it was enough to send a jolt through me.

It was almost as though he recognized me, as though he knew who I was.

But that little flicker was gone before I could even dwell on it, his eyes once again glazed with emptiness.

I barely remember how I went through the rest of the motions… going back home, having dinner, crawling into bed, but all I remember was the tears.

I couldn’t stop crying.

The sight of my father suffering, how his pain had been turned into a celebration for others, the sheer injustice of it all… it was enough to break the will of even the most strong hearted.

But underneath all that sorrow, there was something new— something that had never been there before.

Anger and determination.

I sat up in my bed, my mind completely made up.

Tonight, I was going to save my father.

I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I was sure as hell going to try.

And in the event that I was unable to, then I’d be damned, but at the very least, I was going to give him the peaceful death he deserved.