Luna of the Beastly Lycan King

Chapter 12. Coronation day

☉DANIKA

“Finarfen,” I called as I walked briskly after him. “Finarfen.”

But he would not stop. He just kept on walking after he had dismissed Kendrick. He had nowhere to go. He had only just come into his own chambers, and because I had entered with him, he had stepped out again, walking imperiously. Both Fergal and Andras stayed a good distance away while I pursued after Finarfen, intending to know the reason why he would treat his physician and close friend in that manner.

“Finarfen Evigheden Ardghal, I command you to stop this instant and listen to me.” I shrieked as I jumped right in front of him. His gaze was straight and his face was inscrutable. That mask he had worn earlier while he spoke with Kendrick. As though he were bored. As though he could not bother himself to show his true self to me.

I panted. He suddenly turned his gaze to meet mine. His eyes were fire and reeked of malice. I shivered inwardly, but stood my ground. Finarfen wouldn’t hurt me.

“How dare you treat Kendrick in that manner?”

“Kendrick is sworn to the crown. He does not get to act out of turn or believe himself more special than any other citizen. Something you would do well to learn.” Finarfen replied, blasé.

I screeched. “That was horrible. Rotten. Despicable! Kendrick is your friend—”

“—You would know all about my personal life, now wouldn’t you, woman?” He interrupted coldly. “I would not advise that you carry on in that manner. You speak, after all, to the crown prince of Cynthros who is Alpha and about to be crowned king. Should in case your red-haired brain ever decide to forget.”

He strode away, leaving me standing in a puddle of my own shame. Fergal and Andras made their way past me as silently as their frames, hulking in armor would permit.

I was used to being shamed. I was weak. I was an outsider. I had been a slave. I had no shame when it came to the ridicule of others. I had endured worse. But nothing stung more than the knowledge that these words had been uttered from Finarfen’s very own lips.

I clenched my fingers into fists and shook my head to clear the tears wetting my lashes. I ran after him, slipped past Fergal and Andras again, and stood in front of him. His tone was placid.

“You never seem to get tired of orchestrating your own ridicule—”

I slapped him.

The small wet sound echoed dimly in the hallway. Finarfen’s face was turned down. I had never laid a hand on him before, and from how he moved during his fight at the Battle of Rites, I knew that he was fast—fast enough to stop my hand. But he had allowed it.

Perhaps the thought that I would ever dare such a thing came as a shock to him. Perhaps all he really did see me as was weak. Unable to command attention. Maybe he was beginning to think that he was invulnerable. But I was done caring.

This was not the Finarfen I knew. Something was terribly wrong with this one.

“How dare you?” I spat. The tears were flowing freely down my face now. “I’m never tired of ridiculing myself. Do you have any idea what I’ve gone through? What kind of ridicule I’ve faced? Even before I met you… even after I met you, I was still being ridiculed. Every single day. And you think ridicule is something new to me? That I would suddenly back away out of embarrassment? How lowly you think of me, Finarfen!”

My breaths were becoming shorter and my vision was blurring because of the tears but I didn’t care. I needed to say everything I felt. “You make a mockery out of me. You tell me you want me dead and out of your sight. You tell these ‘others’ of the court who don’t even know or like who you truly are, that you will be rid of me. And for what? Because you saved me? Do you have any idea what I’ve been through because of you? Let me tell you, Finarfen. I’m—”

He seized my hand and pulled it up. I yelped in surprise, eyes wide. He turned his face slowly to mine. I had thought that his eyes held a fire in them. It was a furnace now. His face contorted to unleash the fury he felt within as he spoke. It felt like his words were swords from the time in my pack.

Rough, metal, sharp.

Guttural and hot, like the smoke belched out of a blacksmith’s furnace. He looked beastly.

“No one has touched this body without my permission. Not in a long time. But you… you dare to hit me.”

“Somebody had to do it.” I challenged, unfazed. “Somebody had to snap you out of this stupid state you’re in.”

He roared and pulled my hand up higher. This time, I yelped in pain. But I was quick to turn my pain into anger. It fuelled my insolence as I stared right back into his fiery eyes and his furious face.

“I should kill you,” Finarfen stated calmly and immediately, I feared for the way he had said the words. Like blade against stone.

My lips trembled. “You wouldn’t. You won’t kill me, Finarfen.” But now, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

He pulled me closer to his face. “I wouldn’t even need my sword for it.” He hissed as he stared down my chest. “I could claw you apart right now… I could snap your neck…”

I broke free of his grip. “Listen to yourself!” I cried. “What friend would ever say such a thing?”

“I’m not your friend, I’m the Alpha. That’s something that your brain doesn’t seem to understand.”

Suddenly, the ghost of a smile flittered onto his lips—there one second, gone the next. “Perhaps I was indeed wrong. Maybe you are not as weak as I had thought. No one has ever thought to slap me before. That was very brave. And very stupid. You lose your hand next time.”

He sidestepped away from me. “Also…” I had barely turned back when he ran me straight into the wall, crushing me under his weight, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Stars twinkled in my vision and I fought to breathe. He whispered very softly.

“While your body is even less appealing than the words of your mind, you should still take care to try not to provoke a reaction by dressing in this filthy, worn-out material. There are not many people here—lycans, werewolves, all—who are half as mentally-willed as I am. They would think nothing of forcing you to rut with them or otherwise killing you. It would do you good to visit the laundry and tell the maids that under my orders, you are to be given fresh raiment, suitable for a lady of the court. And for Goddess’s sake, keep away from me. You reek of weakness and pity; the stench disgusts me.”

When he left, I fell to the floor, panting. I was a jumbled mess of emotions. I knew that I was angry—I was bleeding furious at him for how he had treated Kendrick and how he had been treating me all the while, but now I felt something else, too.

Something… different. I just didn’t know what it was.

☆☆☆

“Lord Frederick Von Bighellum, of House Orin!”

“Lord Deught Raleigh of House Paynt!”

“Lady Askaevelr of House Richt!”

The announcer’s voice swallowed every single word that anybody might have had for themselves. It was an amazing testament to the advancement of Cynthros, the way his voice carried from the halls of the palace down to the farthest parts of town. No one was left out of the excitement. The Alpha’s coronation had come at last.

Inside the palace, people talked casually over flutes of wine and the din of clinking hung heavy over the affair. I was standing in a corridor built into the hall. My eyes scanned the crowd for a sign of Finarfen, but just as I expected, he was nowhere to be found.

I strode down the stairs, through the crowds who would not interact with me, and out into the streets where the air was considerably more festive. Armed guards patrolled the premises, looking every bit as menacing as they hoped they were.

The armaments up on the castle walls were mounted and in the watches on the far ends of the castle, I knew that even more guards watched, paying attention to every single detail of the ceremony. Security was tight.

I had not been paying attention or keeping count, but I know for a fact that I passed by more than three groups of Sniffers, eyes closed, noses twitching as they scented the air for intruders.

“Invitations, please.” A guard barked at an entrance. “Invites only!”

I walked across the courtyard. The sun was shining beautifully up in the sky and the Moon Priestess and her ilk must have done extra weather enchantments or something of the sort on the palace itself because the minute I stepped past the gates of the courtyard, the palace was a memory behind me, I stepped into the broiling chaos of fevering excitement.

I thought my face would tear the way I smiled as soon as I stepped out. No doubt, there was some personal magic at work here. I struggled to keep my face under control as I absorbed the sight.

Large banners had been drawn over the streets all across town, so the sun was blotted and the air outside of the palace grounds was thick and suffocating, but surprisingly full of sweet smells.

“Kebabs! Get your kebabs here—”

“Spinning rings! They’ll keep on spinning on your fingers—”

“King Finarfen! Prove your loyalty to our Alpha, King Finarfen, and purchase these branded merchandise—”

“Telescopic glasses! Watch the coronation live without having to squeeze into the palace—”

I chuckled. Everything was happening today. Children ran and chased each other, laughing gleefully, and adults munched on fair food and chattered and yammered and gabbled and squabbled. In a corner not too far from me, next to a fallen stall, two men brawled.

I guffawed.

It was coronation day.

Finarfen was finally going to become king.