*Blanca*
I trail my fingertips along the rough stone wall of the dungeon as I walk briskly along, keeping my shoulders hunched and my head down. In my other hand, I carry a bucket of water and a ladle. Down here, I should be safe from the ridicule I face on the upper levels of the castle, but occasionally, a guard or two will mess with me. It’s easier to avoid them if I’m invisible.
When I was a little girl, I got it into my head that not looking at people somehow made them unable to see me. Now, I know better. Yet, I still find myself staring at my holey boots most of the time.
When I reach the first cell, I pause. “Water?” I offer the man caged inside of the small space the ladle. This cell has no windows, and it’s hard to see because the light from the few lanterns on the walls only reaches so far. But I know his face. I know his name. I know his story.
I know all of their stories.
He comes over and takes the ladle, drinking thirstily before I refill it, and he empties it again. “You’re an angel,” he whispers.
“You’re welcome, Clive.” I smile at him, glad to be appreciated, even if it is by alleged murderers and thieves, and then move to the next cell.
I make my way as quickly as I can, hoping to make it to every cell before I’m discovered and hauled back up the stairs. My parents have forbidden me to come down here, but I do it anyway. I’ve seen the slop and dirty water these poor people are given, and I can’t stand the thought of them suffering for a drink when I can help them. If there was ever such a thing as a trial in all of the kingdom of Dun’s Crossing, perhaps I wouldn’t feel so inclined to help, but in my mind, it should be innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around.
I move to one of the cells that has a window and pause to watch the man inside. Tall, with dark hair the same shade as my own, this prisoner has always been my favorite. When he makes a low humming sound in the back of his throat, several large black birds move to perch between the bars of the small opening high in the ceiling. I can never tell if they are ravens or crows, but their shimmering blue-black feathers are beautiful to me.
“Water?” I ask, like I always do.
He turns to look at me, an amused expression on his face as he saunters over. His long black tunic and pants are filthy and torn, but he looks majestic anyway, like he would be better suited for a wizard’s study or a throne room than a dirty dungeon beneath Wilbury Castle.
“Still playing fast and loose with the rules, huh, Princess?” he asks as he takes the ladle from my hand.
I shrug. “If I get in trouble, it wouldn’t be the first time, Mr. Blake.”
“How many times have I told you not to call me mister? You’re a princess and I’m–”
“What are you exactly?” I interrupt him. I’ve never been brave enough to ask the question of him. Unlike the others, his story is hazy in my mind because he doesn’t want to tell it. I tend not to speak to anyone when it can be avoided. While Mr. Blake has always made me feel comfortable, I’ve never asked that burning question. I’m not sure what makes me ask it today. Yet, here it is, falling from my lips.
Rather than offering me a suitable answer, he chuckles and finishes the water from the ladle. “I am a prisoner.”
“Yes, I know that.” I practically roll my eyes, but I don’t. Mother slaps me in the face when I do that. “I mean….” I gesture at the birds that are still sitting on the window ledge, patiently waiting for his attention. “What are you?”
“Some say I’m a madman,” he begins, dipping the ladle back in and taking another drink before he continues. “Others say I’m a murderer. Or a magician. The king thinks that I’m his arch nemesis.”
“But why?” I ask. “Why are you here?”
“Why are any of us here, my little raven?” He reaches up and tugs a strand of my hair the way a father might a beloved daughter. I smile up at him, wishing my own father would take such an interest in me. “Your king spoke the words, and now here I am. And here I shall be until he says otherwise.”
I want to tell him that when I am queen, I will release him, but we both know I’ll never have a chance to rule Dun’s Crossing. That honor will fall to Prince Kieran.
Even thinking of him makes my stomach tighten up. The high and mighty Kieran–Crown Prince of Dun’s Crossing. Tall, muscular, and handsome, with white-blond hair like the rest of the royal family. All the women want to be his mate, his bride. If they knew the truth–that he is mean, viscous, and cruel, they would gather their skirts and run.
He also happens to be my twin brother, but no one would ever guess that to look at us. And he treats me like he thinks I belong down here with the very prisoners I do my best to help.
“I wish I could let you out,” I whisper.
Mr. Blake reaches through the bars and pats my cheek. “You’re a good girl, little raven.” He always calls me that, probably because of my black hair.
I open my mouth to thank him, but I don’t get the words out before I hear footsteps pounding toward us and look over to see my brother coming toward us in a rage, his icy tresses flowing out around his shoulders as he rushes over. “There you are, you worthless filth. Father has us all searching the whole damn castle for you. Get your ass upstairs to the throne room now, you little bitch.”
For just a moment, as I stare into his light blue eyes, I wish one of those birds on the windowsill would fly over and poke his eye out. It’s a flash of a thought, one I’d feel embarrassed to admit I’ve ever had in my life. He is my brother, after all, and I shouldn’t be so cruel to him just because he hates me.
But before I can even open my mouth to tell him I’ll come along with him, I see a flash of black and blue careening toward him. Kieran raises his hands to protect himself as one of the birds comes flying at his face, squawking, raising its talons, and aiming directly for his eye!
“No!” I shout. Kieran swings at the bird, cursing and trying to knock it away. I cover my mouth in horror as blood drips from my brother’s face.
Mr. Blake makes that sound in the back of his throat, and the bird immediately flies back through the bars. Kieran stands there for a second, one hand pressed to his face, blood dripping down his arm.
“Are you okay?” I move to help him, but he swats at me, pushing me away.
“Leave me the fuck alone!” he says. “You stupid bitch! And you!” He turns toward Mr. Blake, one hand still pressed to his injured eye. “You did that, didn’t you, you psychotic asshole!”
“I’m sorry, Prince Kieran, but I can’t take credit for that,” Mr. Blake says calmly. “I wish I could.”
“You fucking jackass. You’re going to pay for this. Guards, give him fifty lashes!” Kieran shouts as he turns to walk back upstairs. I see some guards moving in Mr. Blake’s direction.
Turning to him, tears prickle in my eyes. “No!”
“It’s all right, little raven,” he assures me. “I will live to see you another day.”
My mouth drops open as the guards brush by me. I hear Kieran shouting for me near the stairwell and remember that my father has called for me. If I don’t go now, I’ll end up getting a beating myself. “I’m sorry,” I tell him.
He says, “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
The guards grab him and drag him to the back of his cell, and I have to go. I can’t stand here and watch them beat him for something he didn’t do.
One thought burns in my mind as I follow my brother up the stairs, his crimson droplets of blood on every other step: I hate Prince Kieran Solberg with all of my being.
*Kieran*My cheek stings where that blasted bird pecked away my skin, but at least it didn’t get my eyeball. Because of my wolf shifter abilities, I feel it healing already. When I draw my hand away again, there’s no fresh blood.I hear my twin sisters’ footsteps lightly following me up the stairs and can feel her glaring at me. It’s nothing new. We’ve been at each other’s throats since we were old enough to walk.Well, that’s not exactly true.I’ve been at her throat. She’s mostly passive, just stares at me. Sometimes she cries. I used to laugh hysterically when she’d cry. It made me want to hurt her more. Now that I’m older and more mature, it just makes me want to tell her to grow a pair.We are finally out of the dungeon stairwell. I hurry along to my father’s office where the rest of the family is waiting. I know he will be displeased, especially when he sees my eye. Mother will likely start having a conniption. Perhaps I shall lie and say something else happened to me.“There he
*Blanca*I almost made it to my room.When Nessa Winters steps out of the shadows near the last turn that takes me to my chambers, I leap backward, not out of fear but out of surprise. I hate it when she does that. Recently, she’s been doing it more and more. I’m not sure why. Maybe the fact that we are all twenty-one now and our wolves are more active has something to do with it. I don’t know, but I don’t like it.“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the nasty bitch who calls herself a princess,” Nessa says, stepping closer to me. Out of other nearby shadows two of her friends appear. I’m outnumbered. That’s not unusual. Not that I ever fight back anyway. If I did, I’d get it worse from my parents. Nessa’s father is an ambassador from an allied pack. They’ve been staying in the castle for years now, negotiating treaties or something like that. I don’t know why she’s here. I just know that she hates me.“Leave me alone, please,” I say. “I’m just trying to go to my room.”“Oh, is that what
*Kieran*I can still feel the sharp rips in the skin of my back where that fucking cat sunk it’s claws in, and my hands ache from the scratches that forced me to let it go before I ripped it in half. I don’t know what the fuck is happening in this place, but something is wrong, and I don’t like it.I rush past Nessa and her cronies where they still stand in the hall. One of them calls out to me, but I wave a dismissive hand. I don’t give a fuck if Nessa Winters is bleeding to death all over the Goddessdamn marble floor. What I do care about is my stupid sister getting herself into trouble again. How many times does she have to be told to stop fucking with Nessa? Last time, I thought Mother was going to break her legs. She came pretty damn close. Mother and her fucking fireplace poker. Thank the Goddess she never turned that on me or any of my other siblings.Why is it okay that she beats the living shit out of Blanca then?I don’t have an answer for that. It’s just always been that wa
*Blanca*It’s been five days since the incident in the dungeon, which was followed by the incident with Nessa–and then the incident with my brother.I’ve hardly left my room since then. I have chores I must do every day, like muck the royal stables and scrub the toilets in my parents’ bathrooms. I’ve done those things and then swung by the kitchen to take a little food. The chef there is nice to me. She never scolds me for plucking an apple or even a turkey leg.That’s it, though. The rest of the time I’ve spent sitting on the edge of my thin mattress staring out the window at the disappearing landscape. The misty fog has continued to roll in, its thick fingers moving mysteriously to intertwine around every building, every tree, every creature that dares to step out into it. It’s not a normal fog. The first time I went out to make my way to the barns and encountered it, I could feel it wrapping around me, the energy inside of it pulsating, moving. Breathing. I had to close my eyes f
*Blanca*I rush down the hallway, my bare feet slapping on the stone that makes up the floors in this dreary part of the castle. I don’t dare look behind me as I hurry toward the closest exit before someone discovers I’ve left my room.Someone locked me in there. Someone who wanted me to miss the Haze. Someone who wanted me to miss my only chance at escape.I can’t think about that right now, though. I have to find him.I need to find my mate.Pushing through the closest exterior door, I step outside and into another world. The Haze pulsates around me. No longer the milky white shade it has been the last few days, it is a shimmering silvery mass that engulfs me immediately. I can’t see anything, and with every breath, it sinks into my soul.My wolf cries for freedom, letting out an excited, primeval howl as I leap into the unknown. My clothes shred, my bones pop, my skin disappears into my body as black fur takes its place all over me. It doesn’t hurt; in fact, it feels incredible, li
*Kieran*I can smell her. I don’t open my eyes yet as flashes of memories from the night before wash over me. I haven’t seen her yet, but it doesn’t matter. I feel her warm body pressed against me, her flat stomach beneath my palm, her small hips situated so that her perfect, round ass cradles my hardening cock.She tasted like strawberries, like a warm summer’s day. The way she’d moved beneath me was perfection, even though I quickly discovered I was her first. This makes me smile because I never want anyone else to claim her. She’s mine.My mate.In a moment, I’ll open my eyes and look upon her beautiful face, maybe for the first time. I wonder who she is. Maybe a princess from a distant land or the daughter of a noble. I’m the Crown Prince of Dun’s Crossing, so she must be someone majestic. Someone important.It doesn’t matter, though. She could be the lowest scullery maid, and I would protect her to my last breath.I feel her stirring beneath me, breaking me from my reverie. I ima
*Blanca*Vomit rises up my throat as I wait as patiently as possible for Kieran to leave the tent. I can’t allow myself to think about what happened last night–what we did. If I do, I’m likely to throw up everywhere.Tears sting my eyes for so many reasons, I couldn’t possibly name them all. Here I was thinking the Haze would be my ticket out of this hellhole, that I’d meet my mate, and he’d sweep me away.Instead, the Moon Goddess made me the butt of Her own sick, twisted joke. What the hell will our parents do to us if they find out about this? They’ll kill me. Like Kieran, they’ll assume I’ve learned some sort of magic that would make this possible.I truly don’t think there’s any magic in the world that would make this happen, but nothing makes sense at the moment. I need to do some research.I turn around to look at the unzipped tent, wondering if Kieran is gone. I see his legs through the flap and then hear another voice.“Oh, Goddess no!” I whisper. I never would’ve thought tha
*Kieran*“Wh-what?” my father stammars as he stares at me standing in front of his desk, holding Nessa’s hand in mine. “Nessa is your… mate?” His face is ashen, his jaw slack, and in his eyes I see the disdain I feel in my heart–along with a great deal of uncertainty.I, too, know how that feels. Another shudder goes down my spine at the thought of what happened last night, but I can’t let my father see that. He has to think I’m happy about this. I cannot, under any circumstances, let Nessa have a reason to tell anyone what she stumbled upon.Or was she stalking me?“Well…” Mother, who is standing behind Father’s chair, one hand on his shoulder, clears her throat and makes a little face like she’s swallowing down her own vomit. “Isn’t that… lovely.” She doesn’t mean a word of it, I know. Nessa is the most annoying girl any of us has ever met. Even more annoying than my fucking sister.Oh, Goddess. I’d better stop using those two words in the same sentence!“Have you told your father