The Werewolf King's Mate

Chapter 6 : Lycaon

~VANNIE~

She knew his story.

In the folklore the elders would tell the children of Zhode, her home territory, he would feature as the ruthless, cursed King who ruled his people with an iron fist. But it was not his fault, they always made sure to say. He was just a good man with a bad wolf, and he didn't even have a mate.

Then they'd point to the west where an intimidating cliff stood, and speak about the lands beyond in hushed whispers.

As a young girl having the first taste of rebellion, Vannie would wander into the thick forests that housed the border of Zhode to other territories.

When she'd come back, clothes torn and muddy, her Sire would growl at her in anger, and warn her about putting herself in the danger of "the King's Keepers."

After many times of threatening shouts, her fae Mam told her the stories of the Alpha King and the Inlands, stories that instilled the fear the growled warnings couldn't.

All her training as guardian and a commander of her Sire's army was done in the standards set by the Inlanders. The first time she'd seen a Keeper, her instructor-in-arms, she'd been awed by the sheer size of him.

She immediately understood why her Da was so scared for her, and grew more fascinated when another Keeper arrived as her poison and herbs instructor and had four inches on the last one.

The Zhodians were lithe and slender, having none of the hulking features of the Inlanders, more so herself who had fae blood. She was small, for lack of a better word, but hadn't thought much about it till she'd experienced the intimidating size of her instructors.

And they were always proud to tell her that they were 'small compared to the King.' That didn't comfort her in the least, as that meant the King was the biggest Lycan in the lupine Realm.

The Realm was the seven territories which made up the lupus community, each of the seven housing a special power. The seat of power, however, was centralized in the Inlands where the ruler was the King of the other Alphas.

The ruler of the Inlands had been in power for almost one century. He was Alpha Sinclair, but only called Sin if, according to her Mam, you wanted to keep your head. His ancestry spoke of powerful Alphas that ruled before him. No one could dispute that his reign was a different one, however.

He was the Alpha de noir, descendant of the gods themselves. The Dark Alphas roamed the earth once every millennia, and were said to be reincarnations of the god, Lycaon.

She knew his story. And she loathed him for every minute of it.

So when she woke up after what she assumed was days later, and her body was supremely relaxed even with her pounding head, she immediately knew he wasn't in the room, and wasn't hovering like he'd been for the past days.

Even while she was unconscious, a part of her was strung tight anytime he was in her room. Her lupine nature would not allow her to forget that Alpha Sin was her King.

Vannie looked around, getting familiar with the room she hadn't been able to properly take a look at before. She studied it hard, noticing that the windows had hexes she wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. Even the doors had hexes, and she could feel the fae magick coming from it. The King had fae folk on his payroll, apparently.

She looked up at the roof of the great room, sensing there was a way out of this room. Every person of power she knew had an escape point in their rooms for when something unpredictable happened. The Alpha couldn't be different.

Where are you, where are you?

Could it be in the wardrobes? On the walls? It could be anywhere.

Why were her eyes dragging her back to the ceilings?

She looked at the ceiling, trying to mute her fae clumsiness and sharpen her wolf instincts. She had to find a way to escape before the King came back to finish what he started. There had to be a way, right?

But she knew she wouldn't find anything. These were the Inlands. Everything was done with startling precision. Plus, her wolf had been dormant for almost two moons now. It wouldn't make a sudden reappearance now.

A sudden movement to her right alerted her to the presence of a cocoa-skinned woman. Vannie stilled to study her.

This woman was eerily gorgeous. Halo-like onyx curls wrapped around her head and tangled around her neck. Warm liquid-brown eyes were perfectly set off by flawless skin and a dark-brown tee, and Vannie remembered the scars on her own body, but quickly squashed the thought before it became something else. Like envy.

The woman rose, and Vannie was struck anew by the impossible size of the Inlanders. Her stature was the perfect contrast to her delicate features.

Vannie immediately knew this woman was one who commanded authority. And that was before she sauntered to the bed, all fluid long limbs and regal grace, and executed a smooth bow. "I'm Maeve, Beth of the Inlands pack."

That information was like ice-cold water dumped over her head. This was the second-in-command to the Alpha. Another one she'd have to kill in the long run if Sinclair didn't kill her first.

Under different circumstances, she'd admire this woman. To be the Beth of the strongest pack in the Realms, she had to have put up with a lot of things. Vannie would know. Since the lupine community was majorly built on patriarchy, a female would have to be pretty solid to own a position, and Vannie always felt an affinity towards females like this.

However, these weren't different circumstances. The Beth must have, in one way or the other, played a role in her captivity. In the long run, this female would have to pay alongside Sinclair.

Vannie snarled. "What am I doing here?" She wasn't about to be civil to someone she hoped she could kill.

The female Maeve shook her head slightly, those big curls dancing with the movement. "The King had an emergency, and I'm here to keep you occupied till his arrival."

Vannie was also not in the mood to let her question go unanswered. "What am I doing here?" She asked again, each word punctuated with steel slowness.

Maeve deliberately held her gaze for a few moments, the power crackling between both women, before she slowly, very slowly, lowered her eyes.

Vannie instantly knew there was a power shift in that interaction. The Beth had just lowered her gaze in the ultimate sign of deference.

To a mere prisoner like her.

What was going on?