Clara
I stared wild-eyed into the calm, pretty face of Hazel. She wore a crimson silk gown that accentuated her shining black hair. Red was after all the color of luck for us werewolves; it is the color of blood after a fresh, clean kill. The other color of luck was the deep dark blue hue that I clothed myself in. It was the inky indigo sky that the moon swims through.
“Hazel, goddess above, I’m so sorry,” I said in embarrassment.
Hazel smiled sadly at me. There was no blame in her pretty features, and a surge of guilt and sisterly affection rose like a rock in my throat.
She turned me around, and I could feel her cool hands caressing my torn shoulder where Lord Dover had dug in his claws. “Was this the work of Lord Dover?” she asked in a low voice.
“Who else?” I growled.
“Come,” she said. “This won’t do. You can’t be battered and bruised tonight.”
“Hazel—” I said, but she pulled me through the swath of werewolves.
“You don’t need to watch,” Hazel said.
She knew of the love I had for Griffin, and she had advised me to let it go. Hazel was wise; I was too stubborn or stupid to not let the flame die out.
I let her usher me into the hallway outside. Not a single civilian werewolf could be seen. Two guard posted outside the iron doors watched us in interest, and one whistled crudely at us. They both shared a laugh and elbowed each other in the ribs.
Quickly, Hazel drew me out of the hallway and pulled us into a silent dark room with several windows and drawn red curtains.
The giant windows displayed a pristine night with the full moon and stars. A green, rosy tint of the aurora borealis shone above the familiar mountain ranges of Yholden far to the north.
I looked at Hazel and even though my heart was heavy, I couldn’t help but laugh as she drew out a small pack that was tied to a belt on her thigh. It was her small poultice bag for medical emergencies.
Hazel smiled mischievously back at me. “Always be prepared.”
Hazel was the quintessential healer. She used to be an assistant of my mother. She was a genius in the art of herbs.
“I don’t think there’s anyone more prepared for an accident than you are,” I said. “Did you really think we’d all be killing each other at the Mating Ball?”
“Fights have started for stupider things than finding a mate for life,” Hazel said seriously. “And I’m very sorry to say, I always find you in trouble.”
“I never start the fights,” I said defensively.
“Yes, but you can never end them well, either,” Hazel said. She nuzzled my cheek with her own. “You know I’m not blaming you. I’m just worried. Eternally worried.” She squished my cheek, an action she was a little too fond of doing. “I should be thanking you. Now I have the exhausting but rewarding experience of being an overbearing mother before I find a mate. Whoever he is, he’ll be delighted at how good of a mother I’ll be.”
I laughed as well. “You certainly have the stubborn qualities of a hen guarding her brood.”
“A hen?” Hazel clicked her tongue. “I truly hope that you have greater esteem of me than that of a chicken.”
“If you start squawking and flapping your arms one of these days, I wouldn’t even be surprised. I can hear the other pack members now: ‘Beware of showing kindness to the traitor’s daughter Clara; you’ll go as crazy as Hazel.’”
We shared a giggle, but then I looked away from her soft brown eyes.
I wanted to tell her of my plans to escape. But she wouldn’t understand, would she? She had always believed that they would see my potential and mate me with a decent guy in this pack. She always believed in those good things and hopes. There was no prejudice in her eyes, just wounded souls.
But I didn’t believe it.
She drew out small jar, unscrewed the cap, and applied a cooling ointment to my back. I breathed out in relief. It was an ointment I knew well. It was a remedy she had extracted from a plant called Sophia’s tears. She perfected the old healers’ formula that would sting relentlessly when applied.
“It may hurt a little bit.” She smiled to me. Her voice was soft. Her touch was soft.
I wanted to cry. Guilt dug into me; would she feel being betrayed if I escaped?
Hazel was going to be the only thing I might miss about this place, and I didn’t want her to hate me.
Impulsively, I hugged her and pushed my head into her chest. It was so infantile of me to do, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Hazel. Thank you. I’m sorry.”
I could hear Hazel’s surprised intake of breath, but she gently tousled my hair like a mother.
“Sorry? For what? Clara. What are you talking about?” Her voice suddenly became sharp, but I couldn’t answer her.
I wanted to, but I couldn’t.
We take no chance. Elena warned me the danger of being caught.
For a moment, we stayed there in silence, and I relished the moment of peace. I wished that we could stay like this, like normal werewolves wishing each other a life of happiness. But Diantha was a goddess of tricks and illusions. She was not done with me yet.
Clap. Clap. Someone applauded.
A musical, languid voice came from out of the corner of the room.
“A truly touching scene, but it begs the question: shouldn’t you lovely she-wolves be in the presence of your Alpha?”
I could feel the hackles on the back of my neck shiver.
Hazel’s pointed ears perked up, and she bared her teeth in surprise. Mine also raised.
Hidden deep in the curtained alcove of one window was a handsome male werewolf clothed in steel and navy blue garb. One muscled shoulder was bared, and half of his shirt and outer cloak made with silver ermine fur were tied around his waist. Strips of black leather covered his shapely thighs, but his feet were bare.
I could see that he had cast off his black boots with fur trimmings carelessly in the corner. His sleek indigo hair went down to his waist and twisted together with dyed flashes of silver braids. Leaning back into the scarlet cushions of the alcove, he waved his hand cheekily at us.
“Oh, please do go on. Don’t let me stop you. I was hoping you two would declare your undying love to one another and tear your clothes off. You don’t mind if I join in at that point, do you? I am so very bored.”
Clara Who was him? How long had he been eavesdropping our conversation? Hazel and I made no move or sound, but we both tensed up. The werewolf yawned. His beauty was ethereal and his movements foxlike. Unlike the muscular meatheads of our pack, this male seemed to prize lithe grace over bodybuilding. Yet, I could tell he was strong. I had never seen him. He must be an outsider, a foreigner from another pack. And I did not recognize his exotic scent – there was a strange spicy aroma that I couldn’t place. He drew out a long black pipe from his tunic and filled it with some kind of dried powder. Every movement was slow and calculated, as if he didn’t mind my growing discomfort. Hazel gave a short but graceful bow. “I apologize for disturbing your repose, Prince Legiere.” She clasped my hand. “I wished to tend her wounds before the coupling began.” I could sense her body tense up, stiffened. Prince? He stretched and yawned again loudly. Once again, I was reminded of a crafty fox
Clara How could I be this ignorant? Girls in the line had talked about them. Dark Shade. Of course. They were the Elite of all the Elites. That absurdly wealthy pack in all of the Twin Canines. And Deanneth Legiere. He was their notorious Alpha. Like my parents, he was traitor to his pack. Only he was not only able to survive, but he also had succeeded in subjugating the most powerful pack in the entire South. He took over the pack from his elder brother Bruess Legiere who should have been throned after their late father’s death. He was a usurper. Just imagine how dangerous he would be. And I had just told him that he was a disgusting pig. My mind swirled with various thoughts and assumptions. I pondered on what I had just done and what it meant. My blood froze, my heart sank. A wild, heady feeling churned in the pit of my stomach. It was a mix of fear and self-destruction. I need to run. I have to run, now! I would run tonight anyway, and I just needed to prepone it. I tri
Trigger Warning: This chapter contains abuse, violence, and emotional relapse. Please read at your own risk. Clara Gerald was a monster of a werewolf with massive muscles; he was matchless in any one-on-one fight. They said that he had fought every Elite and lower class werewolf in the gladiator trials for physical supremacy, and he never lost once. I would be a fool if I thought I could defeat him. But it didn’t matter if I lost. I was dead anyway. If I wasn’t beaten to a pulp by the Lieutenant, then I would be taken to be questioned and tortured. At least I would go down on my own terms. I snarled at Gerald and threw myself at him. The stone was in my hand. A grim smile was on his face. The rock collided with his upper arm, as he raised them in time to block. Any lesser werewolf’s arm would have shattered instantly, but Gerald was built like a mountain. He lifted his giant fist and let it crash on my head – or he would’ve gotten my head, if I didn’t dodge just in time. Instead
Clara A crying child standing alone in front of a hall of werewolves. Rumors of betrayal. The yellow eyes of our Alpha as he sat in a highchair, listening to his advisers. Their urgent whispers. “Kill her too. Kill her before she grows old and takes her revenge. The seeds of treachery must not be allowed to take root.” “Am I that weak to need to kill a mewling child?” The matter was settled. The Elites and advisers all spoke at once in consternation and shock. An ambitious red-haired werewolf with a goatee put himself forward. His tones were flattering. “Let me take her as a ward, then, my Alpha. I shall house her until you decide what to do with her.” “I have already decided, Lord Dover. But do as you wish.” The tall werewolf then stood up and stared down at me. I saw his claws. They dripped with blood. The scent of blood in nostrils. Sharp and bitter. Pungent. Spicy? Why did it smell like spice? Oh gods, why did it smell like burning mushrooms? ** I groaned and tried t
Clara Freedom? I could barely believe what I was hearing. The Prince of the Dark Shade pack had played a card game to grant me my freedom? Why? And why in hells would our Alpha of the Moonstone Pack even agree to it? I must be still dreaming. I could see the Lieutenant angrily pacing the floor, as Prince Legiere unlocked the iron gates of my cell. He waltzed inside the gates and took off my gag. I gulped in air greedily. My head felt light, and I didn’t have it in me to give sarcastic commentary. Gerald had beaten that out of me quick enough, and I wasn’t stupid enough to do it again. The Alpha Andelle had watched these proceedings in silence until now. “You are free to have her, but I wonder what exactly you plan to do with her? Surely you were not serious about making her your mate?” he asked. “Concubine,” Prince Legiere said brightly. “I already have a destined mate for me back at home waiting for me. I’m sure she and my lovely brother would be quite sad to hear if I had sud
Clara Servants scurried in and out of the Alpha’s mess hall with plates of hot food and drink on wooden trays. Pale gleams of light flowed in from the large windows on all sides. There were several tapestries and paintings that told the story of the Andelle ancestors. The tantalizing smell of appetizers and entrees made me drool, but I found that I couldn’t relax enough to shovel food in my mouth like I usually did. Not with the Alpha, Sisley, Prince Griffin, and Gerald in the same room with me. Prince Legiere gently tugged at one of my loose brown braid to get my attention. I stared angrily at him. I wanted to throttle him. “No,” I said with gritted teeth. He was smiling and holding a spoon of piping hot porridge mixed with sweet milk, scallions, and seared pork rinds. It smelled absolutely delicious, and my stomach rumbled in agony. Gladly would I have tried to take a bite, but not in this embarrassing manner. “Don’t be like that. Say ‘ahhh.’” I turned my face away at the last
ClaraAlpha Andelle steepled his clawed fingers together and gazed at Prince Legiere. “If you would excuse my son, it appears that he still has not learned the delicacy required in such private matters.”Griffin tensed, but Sisley put her hand on Griffin’s arm to calm him down.Emperor Barnes Andelle went on, and his yellow eyes were scathing. “Perhaps the fledgling prince has given you the wrong impression about the girl. It may be true that at the time, she was too young to have been involved in the plot against me. However, her actions three nights ago speak of a guilty conscience. She fled when I had extended her an invitation to the mating ball. She attacked an Elite member of my pack. I caution that you think twice about this arrangement of spiriting her away from our pack.”“A guilty conscience?” I cried out. “You left me to rot with these people who did everything in their power to make my life a living hell. Every single werewolf in this pack, everyone, treated me like a cont
Clara Sisley had been watching me, and she spoke, “Careful, step-sister. Your murderous intent is plain on your face. Perhaps my little brother couldn’t finish the job, but I assure you – I can and I will if you make one wrong move.” Elena hissed and bared her teeth, but I shut my eyes as if to shut out her presence as well. We need to stay calm, I told Elena. We’ve learned so much, and I can’t stupidly try to take on the Alpha, the Lieutenant, and Sisley all at once. Prince Legiere whistled and then burst into laughter. “Hotheads both of you! Like brother, like sister. There’s a saying in our pack that redheads are doomed with short tempers. You realize that you’re threatening my concubine, don’t you?” Sisley glared at Prince Legiere. “I’m quite curious about what your brother and future mate would say about all of this, Prince Deanneth? Did they approve of you sneaking out of Khordon with just two of your bodyguards to have a pleasant stay in Bragne? Or will the messenger hawk th