The Wolf and the Maiden

Chapter 1

Rían and Rory’s water-logged dress shoes both clicked and sloshed as they walked down the stone floor of the great hall. After entering through the dual heavy ornate doors pushed open by young men shrouded in deep red tunics girded with leather belts, they followed the four armored men that they had encountered at the lake into the large chamber. The room’s light came from long wooden tables positioned down the sides of the room embellished with flickering candelabras as well as two colossal circular candelabrum that hung from the ceiling.

Even though the chaperones were a pretty big hint of where he was, everything around him screamed primitive, feudal. From when they had approached the castle curtain wall, towering with battlements, then led through the portcullis and into courtyards sprinkled with a few gawking courtiers dressed in clothes he only saw in old giant paintings that lined the halls of his grandfather’s palace back in the Lycan realm; and now, being presented with the final piece on this chess board.

A king on a throne.

Guided to the far side of the room, Rían and Rory were led to an expansive four-stair daïs wherein sat a man eyeing their approach from the overly large ceremonial chair. Its baroque wooden frame peaked in several triangular patterns behind him, creating a near sunburst attraction with his golden-haired, golden-crowned head. It was obvious they were finally meeting the illusive King Joel, yet Rían hadn’t expected him to be near his own age. When the letter had been delivered to his front door, he had conjured up images of a much older man. Then again, his own grandfather —King Aron— looked the same age yet was centuries old.

Maybe this guy was supernatural, too?

Inhaling as subtly as he could, Rían took in the king’s scent. Human. Just like the metal-clad men around them. Only he and Rory had the smell of mystic energy.

Coming within a few feet of the base of the stairs, the knights first bowed at King Joel before they rose up the steps, each one taking a landing of their own to perch upon. Soon, the doors opened behind them again, and that same chary messenger who had delivered the letter earlier on their front porch scurried inside the Great Hall and rushed toward them, bustling to a standstill at the bottom of the stairs before diving into a deep bow.

“Your Grace,” he solemnized. “May I present Prince Cian Nicolet of the earth realm.” He peered over his shoulder at Rían, doing a double take when he noticed Rory, his brows dipping, before clearing his throat and looking back at the king. “The other princes are being escorted as we speak.”

The king looked over them, his voice booming. “Why is our guest soaking wet?” Just the mention of his sopping clothes made Rían shiver, feeling as though the saturated tuxedo had suddenly plastered further against his goose-bumped skin.

The man bowed again as he spoke, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. “We found him in the Lake Trost, your Majesty.”

“And, Kellen, why did we find him in the lake?” King Joel asked in a deep voice. His brow rose as he followed the thin rivulets of water snaking through the cracks of the floor beneath their feet. “And I'm curious as to who his companion might be? You did not introduce him. Is he not one of the princes we have called for?” Rían had wanted to speak for himself, but he wasn’t sure how it worked here and didn't want to piss anyone off, so he waited to see everything play out.

“Um,” Kellen’s voice wavered. “We are not sure how he ended up in Lake Trost. It is simply where he was?” The poor guy seemed just as confused as everyone in the Hall. His eyes shifted to Rory even though his head remained face-down. “They were together when I delivered the letter to the prince’s estate in their realm, though I do not know why he is here as well.The companion is his brother,” he informed.

“That would be me,” Yeah, Rory didn’t give a s**t about etiquette. Raising his hand in a playful wave, “Prince Rory Nicolet. And honestly, I don’t think either of us should be here,” his brows danced across his forehead in amusement as he motioned between him and Rían, looking from the king to Kellen. “So, if we can just get one of those glowy paper letter thingys again and get back home—”

“---Are you not Prince Cian?” The king’s eyes darted from him to Rían.

Clearing his throat, “Uh, no. We were on our way to give my father the letter that Kellen ,” he nodded at the bowing man, “gave to us. But before we could, it kinda… exploded?”

“Exploded? That’s not how… Did you open it?” His stern voice sent a wave of pin-pricks down Rían’s spine. The guy may not be supernatural, but he did have the aura of a king.

Rory made a face, “Maybe… just… an itsy bit?” he said as he displayed pinched fingers.

The king rubbed a hand roughly down his face, sighing. “Do you realize what you’ve done? We have called for specific people to come for specific reasons. We did not call for you!” His eyes volleyed between them.

“Yes,” Rory snapped his fingers, pointing at King Joel. “That’s right. We are not the princes you are looking for. So, if you can just reverse the hooky bookie spell, we’ll be happy to return home.” This had been Rory’s primary grumble as the knights had led them to the castle— about getting back home.

And Rían didn’t object in the least. He didn’t understand why they were here and was horrified to think about what their parents must be dealing with back home. By now, Stefan had, no doubt, informed everyone at the coven house about what had happened —the race, the car veering out of control, the crash into the water. Everyone must be going out of their minds! Especially when they recovered the car and find no one inside it. He could just imagine the horror on his sweet mother’s face…

We need to get back to our realm.

Rian interjected, hoping to add a bit of decorum to Rory’s blatant request. “We apologize if we screwed up any of your plans, King Joel. We were going to give the letter to our father, Prince Cian, who is obviously the one you wanted here. But my brother, he was a bit curious, and opened it, and now we’re here.” The king hadn’t lightened up in the least, his glare seeming to darken more. Rían cleared his throat, “So, if you need my dad, and I am sure he’ll help you in whatever you need—"

“---yeah, our dad is the s**t---” Rory nodded in encouragement, but quieted when Rían shot him a look.

“— so, if you just do a little swicher-oo?”

“That isn’t something we can do. Not right now.” King Joel sat back in his chair in a huff. “The magic required to have done what we did--- to bring everyone here--- was risky enough. We cannot chance it again.”

“Wait, what?” Rory glared, placing his hands on his hips. “We can’t go back?”

“No,” King Joel said with finality, his words echoing in the empty chamber. “And there is nothing I can do about that until it is all done.”

Rían asked, “Until what is done?”

The sound of the heavy doors opening drowned out the beginnings of whatever the king had started to say, ushering in another set of metal-plated men surrounding two people who looked around with just as much surreal bewilderment as Rían still felt. From how they were dressed, wearing modern clothes much like he and his brother, it was no doubt these two were snatched up from their own realms and brought here as well. And from what Kellen said earlier, about other princes being escorted in, he knew these guys must be them.

The two came to stand next to Rían and Rory at the base of the stairs, everyone sizing the other up quietly while trying to figure out what the hell was going on. The taller of the two, though matching Rían’s and Rory’s six-five height, had an interesting allure to his copper-colored skin that seemed to glisten a slight golden sheen with the lighting in the room. Styled with the precise edges of a formable fade with a fluff of short, tight curls on top of his head, as well as the sharp style of his short beard, he had all the grooming of being professionally tailored. Despite Rían being in full tuxedo, this guy here oozed a sense of wealth even with the casual-looking attire, which definitely wasn’t bought off the rack at any store. Even though he held himself with an important air, as any prince would have mastered while growing up, there was something else within the disgruntled lines of his face. Perhaps it was in the slight pull of his lower lip that implied it always fitted with a frown, or maybe it was the lack of light in his eyes that hinted of some unspoken hardship. Nonetheless, the prickly aura he projected was undeniable.

In contrast, the other new guy who stood opposite Rory had long tousles of sunburnt cinnamon hair that kissed the tops of his shoulders, along with a thrush of freckles nearly the same color which dotted across his face in what seemed to be set on perma-grin. Even though he wore a pair of jeans, a dark colored hoodie, and canvas high-top shoes, the commonality of clothes didn’t hide any of the regality of his aura. Nor did the tips of pointed ears that peeked through his hair hide the fact that there was more to this guy than what he now knew. Although he appeared the younger of them all, sitting maybe within his early twenties, age probably didn’t touch him like it didn’t a Lycan.

The guy’s chin jerked, “Hi-ya,” he greeted with his white teeth beaming. Having been in Europe a lot, on business or simply visiting the family’s Gorges du Verdon château in France, Rían could easily place the guy’s accent as English.

Rían nodded back, trying to smile despite all the crazy happening to the four of them, hoping this guy wasn’t one of those happy Monday little ray of sunshine types. Because regardless of how hard those people tried to brighten his day, it just always seemed to rub him the opposite way.

Despite a possible personality clash with Mr. Grumpy on his right and Mr. Sunshine on his far left, Rían knew they did have one thing in common. In contrast to everyone else in the room, these two smelt supernatural.

“King Leon,” Kellen bowed again, his arms swinging toward the new arrivals. “Prince Isak Duval and Prince Chasanglas Gatafyr.”

To which the redhead groaned, “Chaz. Please, call me Chaz.” Rían followed his brother as they looked at the guy, raising a mirthful eyebrow. And even though Isak kept his attention on the king, a slight smirk teased the side of his mouth for a second as well.

“Of course, Prince Chaz,” the king nodded at him, their eyes locking for a second before he blinked his attention away, tracking over the other three again. The Hall’s stone walls ricocheted in his booming voice, “Now that you’re all here, I want to welcome you officially to the Vafaren realm, and more specifically, to my kingdom, which is called Armendari.”

“King Joel, respectfully,” it was Isak who spoke, which vibrated from him in a low, beast-like baritone, nearly the same as what Rían would sound like if he were in his Lycan form, “what the hell am I doing here? And what gives you the right to bring me to this place without my consent?”

Rory snorted, whispering to Rían, “I like this guy.” Rían did too, despite the aloof broody Isak emanated. Because he said what they were all feeling. This king had no right to rip them away from their lives to do whatever the hell he wanted them to do. Even though the letter was not for him, even though his father would probably have aided anyone who had asked him for help if he had been the one to answer the call like he had done so many times throughout his life, Rían was damn well sure that his father would have responded the same way if he had been basically kídnapped and forced into it.

The answer would be big a hell no.

“I admit our tactics were a bit intrusive.” King Joel looked unbothered by Isak’s sullen growl, his chin lifting as he continued, “But we needed to act fast and had to skim over some of the more appropriate pleasantries of a proper invitation. If it is ever discovered what we’ve done just to get you here, then this entire realm is doomed.”

Rían glared, “Not our problem.”

“But it is your problem now,” King Joel simpered. “Because if the Karanlık aren’t stopped, then there is no possible way to get any of you back to where you've come from.”