Luna of the Beastly Lycan King

Chapter 5. New beginning

FENRIR

I found myself within the physical form of another.

The reflection in the vast mirror, spanning the length of the grab chamber, was not my own. Titan of a man, with wild, long, and dark hair, and eyes as obsidian orbs.

I looked down at my bloodied fists, clutching the strange blade. This was nothing like the blades I was used to. It felt lighter, sharper, an extension of sinew and limb. Nothing like the heavy, iron weapons of my pack. This was too easy, compared to charging head-first into battle with nothing but claws and fangs.

I threw the blade aside, with a scowl.

Real warriors never cowered behind such worthless instruments. Easily, could I have murdered my assailant back in the colosseum. He was a fraction too slow, too unguarded. Worthless mistakes that might have led to his treacherous death. His face was battered under my fists, fortunate to even be spared.

My chest burned with rage.

I remembered dying. Prior to that, I was mere seconds away from sinking my claws in Archibald’s jugular. Give him the death he was long overdue for. But then…she interfered. Tahila. She had confessed wanting to be with me. Something I had pined for so long, now offered to me.

I allowed myself the distraction. That was my mistake. Nothing else mattered but her, the feel of her skin against my battle-worn fingers. The scent of her, Amidst the blood and death. I had felt a fleeting sense of euphoria, which ended at the plunge of her knife into my heart.

I might be encased in another's corporeal form, but the pain felt as strong. A searing, numbing agony that gripped both heart and soul.

Her face was the last memory of my life, as Fenrir.

When I opened my eyes again, I was surrounded by thousands of screaming people, in the bowels of a ruined, ancient yet powerful colosseum.

They were strange people, thirsty for violence and bloodshed. While, where I came from, the horrors of violence and bloodshed were too much to bear. The strangest of them all, was the redhead calling me by a strange name. Calling me a prince, now to be crowned King.

Finarfin. Of House Tyrune.

Only after now seeing my reflection, did I realize what could have happened to cause this grave situation. A soul swap. Whoever this Finarfin was… the previous occupant of this body, must have died in the arena. And after my own body succumbed to Tahila’s blade, my soul must have stubbornly held on to life, filling this body instead.

Soft footsteps approached, and I turned to see the redhead. She was carrying a filled basket on her hip, those small slender fingers holding up one end of her flowery, purple dress. Especially with those big blue eyes of hers watching my every move.

I loathed her. I loathed this chamber. I loathed this predicament I was entangled in.

I advanced towards her, “You. What is your name?”

“...Danika, is my name.”

It was apparent that she had a close kinship with Finarfin, yet prying into such matters would not be in my favor at this point. I granted her wish to guide me to a seat while she recounted the events of the day.

Her prince, Finarfin, had to partake in a tradition where the contenders for the throne passed through the battle of rites. He had a weak heart, and had, of course, died…until I awoke in his body and defeated his opponent. Now, everyone celebrated, preparing for the coronation of their new king … such nonsense.

The doors opened and a procession of maids filed in, carrying shiny platters of food and golden dishes. A feast? How dare they mock me by bringing up a feast to celebrate my misfortune?

“Leave!” I thundered, “No one steps foot in here.’

Danika straightened, “My prince, you need sustenance—”

“Tell, who are you to presume to make decisions on my behalf, Danika? I permitted you to attend to my wounds, as you so desperately wished, and now you overstep your bond? You really are one impudent, maiden.” I glowered, “And I will not indulge you further. Leave, now!”

She gasped, in shock. The maids curtsied, shakily arranged the food over a broad table close to the bed. They scurried out after. Danika slowly turned and floated after them, stealing a glance back at me.

I moved to the large windows carved into the walls. For the first time, I got a proper view of this strange place I found myself in.

Below the castle were fields, spread in all directions. Many of them were filled with lush gardens, bright flowers, magnificent trees, and ripe fruits, others were mazes, some were plain…filled with dust and rough earth like some sort of fighting pit. And this was only what I could see from this part of the castle. From this view, I could assume that this was a gigantic castle, which sat on the highest hill of the kingdom.

Around all of this, were walls. Thick walls forged from metal and stone, almost as high as the castle towers. Upon the thick walls were broad paths, on which warriors paraded, armed to the teeth. All sorts of war contraptions sat in wait, machines, and tools I had never even seen before. A surprise attack on such a stronghold would only end in needless bloodshed, I could tell.

Cynthros…as this place was called, appeared to be advanced.

Beyond the walls, a deep lake flowed, which I figured was created by the royal family, as another barrier to get through before even reaching the castle walls.

Frowning, I turned away from the windows. How could I have awoken in a darn stronghold in the middle of nowhere? I could easily have exchanged souls with one of the many dead warriors on the battlefield. I could have returned as a soldier of wulpen, to finish off the score. Now, I had to work my way out of this blasted predicament as inconspicuously as manageable.

Grabbing a goblet filled with rich dark wine, I took a large swig, simmering in my own misery.

☆☆☆

“Your Highness… Your Highness.”

I stirred, lifting my head from the velvet sheets of the bed. There was a shadowy male figure standing at the foot of the bed. Battle instincts kicked in, and I kicked off the bed in a second, reaching him with a claw at his throat. He went very still, watching me through the corner of his eyes.

“It is Andras, my prince.” He said slowly, so his skin wouldn't touch the blade.

I stared at him, for one terrifying moment, I couldn't remember where I was. But then it all came crashing back. I was supposed to be Finarfin, their prince, soon-to-be King. Slowly, I withdrew the blade, stepping away from him with a hand in my hair. Trying to put back on the facade.

“How dare you interrupt my rest?”

The man —Andras— bowed, “Forgive me, your highness. After the rigor of the battle of rites, it is understandable to still be on edge. However, there is a lot the day has in store.”

I observed him closely, endeavoring to ascertain his identity. He had tan skin, and untamed black hair that matched the colors of his armor. Judging by the type of armor, and the grim hardness in his hazel eyes, and the blade sheathed by his side, I assumed he was a royal guard. A close one to Finarfin, as that would explain his guts to wake a royal from their sleep.

“How long was I asleep for? As you seem to have taken count.” I inquired, peering briefly at the windows. The curtains were drawn.

“The entire night, your highness. The Lycan families were informed that you won't be attending the feast held in your honor last night, but it went smoothly.” Andras looked down at the empty wine casket on the table, “Today, however, you have to be ready for the Selu’myr Enthroned tonight.”

“The what—now?”

“The initiation ceremony, my prince.” He looked at me as if he suspected that I was still under the influence of the wine. I itched to knock him upside the head for that. “And, the vineyard made a bountiful harvest this morning. I hear that many families are willing to place huge bids just for a casket of your favorite wine.”

Andras gave a slight smile, “I believe we should go over to personally inspect the proceedings, so you don't run out of wine, just like the last time.”

It seemed like a running joke between Andras and Finarfin, this wine thing, which I couldn't care less about. What I did understand was that Andras was definitely an ally to the prince.

In the ensuing hour, I strode a pace behind Andras, concealing my unfamiliarity with the grounds. Upon arriving at the vineyard, I permitted him to do the chore of talking, while I busied myself with noting the surroundings.

The castle grounds were filled with various people, maids, workers, guards, and wealthy family members who were here for the celebration. At every turn and corner, at least two ladies would stop to curtsy, blush to tinge their cheeks, and expectant looks in their eyes.

It was sickening.

“As the son of the late Lycan King, you have always been the most eligible mate in the City of Cynthros. However, your position held only limited power. But now that you have contested the strongest of the other packs and houses and won, you shall become King. Many families aspire for any of their daughters to become your chosen mate, and Luna of the kingdom.” Andras said.

“However, tonight, the Moon priestess shall initiate you into your rightful position, and you shall become Alpha. Earning you the right to choose your Beta. Choose wisely, my prince.”

Andras extended the “tour” to various parts of the castle that needed my attention, and I siphoned as much information as I could from him. I had to understand as much about this place as I could, and he provided a perfect source.