“I’m sorry it came as a surprise that I did not reveal who you were.” The King’s voice was a scratchy wooden note as it bounced around the study.
I glanced at Grae but couldn’t read his hard expression as he stared everywhere but at me. Fire churned in my chest at the bruises on his face. Who had he been brawling with?
“I feel it is best you remain a secret, Calla,” King Nero continued.
I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised a hand, silencing me.
His countenance darkened. “You think I’d let you undermine the future your parents and I worked so hard to plan? You’d steal your sister’s legacy right out from under her, wouldn’t you?”
“What are you talking about?” I furrowed my brow and folded my arms tightly across my chest.
The King’s eyes widened at my casual, biting tone. Clearly, no one questioned the King. He was the leader of the pack, equal to the Gods themselves. But he was the one who was being inappropriate, threatening me with such accusations.
“Two daughters of Olmdere. Pity Sameir didn’t have a son.” He gestured toward the giant tapestry behind him displaying a detailed map of the Wolf kingdoms.
Olmdere sat to the very north with ocean surrounding its three sides. The mountains of the Ice Wolf kingdom of Taigos separated Olmdere and Damrienn with a thin white line. To the south sat the kingdom of Valta, homeland of the Onyx Wolves.
I had stared at the map of Aotreas so many times as a child, wondering what the other kingdoms might be like. It was said that Taigos was blanketed in permanent snow, the pack living in the high alpine peaks. Valta was said to be dotted with cerulean lagoons and floating islands covered in teeming jungles rarely visited by the other Wolf kingdoms.
The three other kingdoms of Aotreas seemed to carry on as if nothing had happened twenty years ago. If Vellia’s story was to be believed, they were there that night, too. They had watched my father die and his pack slaughtered in their attempts to protect him. It was what made a pack so strong. They would do anything for each other, willing to run into certain death to protect one another. But the rulers of other kingdoms had no such allegiances to our pack, only to their own. They had turned a blind eye to Olmdere, and now our supposed ally was staring daggers into me.
“You were born under the same moon as your sister. You are equally the eldest child,” King Nero snarled. “If you chose to ally with another kingdom, war would break out over who was the rightful king,” he fumed, as I stared blankly at him. “Answer me.”
“You haven’t asked me a question,” I said, baffled by the surprised look on his face. I darted a glance at Grae, who stared straight at his boots.
“Your parents wanted nothing when it came to you.” The King’s mirthless laugh made me grit my teeth. “You were never meant to exist.” His eyes scanned my body again and his lip curled. “Why would I give you a piece of anything? But seeing as you’re here, I will do the gracious thing and give you a choice: remain the princess’s guard, or reveal yourself and, as a father-figure of sorts, I shall arrange an advantageous marriage for you to prince Tadei of Valta.”
“Tadei?” I blanched. “He’s forty years older than me.”
“Princess Briar understands her place in these plans, a pretty thing on my son’s arm.” He tipped his head to the prince, and Grae still didn’t look up at me. I took a shallow breath. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t saying anything. Had he known this all along?
“If you think I’m such a threat, then why not just kill me?” I snarled, finally pulling Grae’s eyes up from the floor.
“I’ve considered it.” The King huffed. “Believe me, girl, it is still an option. But a secret such as yours could come in handy in the future, should something happen to your sister.” Grae shifted on his feet, shoulders raising.
“Is that a threat?”
“You tell me.” The King leaned forward, pressing his lips to his steepled fingers. “Think reasonably. Grae and I are the only ones who know who you really are. You could howl that you are a Marriel until you’re blue in the face, but no one would believe you.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’ve waited twenty years to mine Olmdere of her gold and I will not let you threaten what’s mine.” What’s mine. “In the olden days, we used to kill off the runts.” The King’s lip curled. “I see that soft-hearted faery didn’t have it in her.”
My eyes beseeched Grae to say something, but he remained woefully silent. I didn’t know this man at all. His betrayal slammed through me. He’d led me into this trap. Had he befriended me those many years ago so that I would submit? To win me over to his side? Grae had let me believe his father would reveal my true identity, and now I didn’t even know if my sister and I would be safe. I clenched my hands into fists, wishing I could claw his eyes out.
King Nero lifted a paper off his desk, seemingly bored with the conversation. Finally, he muttered, “You are to remain a humble servant of the Crimson Princess and honor your pack or you’ll be sent to Valta. Is that understood?”
I steadied my voice. “Yes.”
“Then you are dismissed,” the King said, eyeing me as a wicked smirk twisted his lips.
I knew then that he’d do it—that he’d kill me, or worse, if I didn’t play along. This was the leader of our pack, the father to us all, and he’d just admitted to wishing me dead.
I bobbed my head in a halfhearted bow and left. I tried to steady my breath and failed. Gods, I’d been so naive. I wanted to ram my dagger straight through King Nero, but with four guards waiting at the door and Grae at his back, I couldn’t do it.
My thoughts spiraled as I walked down the narrow servant’s corridor back toward my sister’s chambers. No guards followed me this time. No torch guided me through the windowless halls as the darkness filled me. Thoughts darted through my mind too fast to hold on to . . . apart from one: I had to protect my sister from that monster of a king. Briar was my only pack now.
Footsteps echoed behind me and I knew who followed by his telltale gait. It sounded the same on four paws, quick and lumbering, like a bear barreling through the forest.
“Little fox,” Grae’s voice pleaded.
“Don’t you dare call me that.” I sped up, turning down another darkened corridor, unsure if it was the right way.
“Please. Talk to me.”
“You didn’t seem to want to talk when your father called me a runt,” I snarled, racing across the gray stones. “Or when he threatened to hurt my sister and kill me.”