The Dying Wolf: The Familiar Empire Series

by Bailey, G.

  We will fix it...somehow.

  “No,” I whisper. “I belong anywhere that isn’t here. This is not my home, but they have my sisters.”

  “Bethany? Phoebe?” she asks, furrowing her brow. “You might need to start explaining yourself.”

  As I tell Raine the story I’ve just found out I play a part in, for a moment I allow myself to just forget where I am.

  And pretend I’m safe instead.

  For a second, it works.

  Chapter 9

  Anastasia

  Oh god, not dresses. Anything but a pretty dress…

  “What do you think, Annie?” Phoebe asks as she swirls around in a sparkling purple dress that has layers upon layers of lace and silk making up the dress. Tiny pink flowers rim the edges of the dress and around her waist. Her hair has been curled into ringlets that fall around her shoulders, and I can’t help but smile at her as she giggles. This is the life Phoebe clearly wants, even when I know it’s no good for her. I haven’t even seen her miss home or talk about Grandma Pops once.

  “You look like a princess,” I answer her, making her look happier than ever. The door is knocked twice before Courtney walks in with two other young women and Skye walking behind them, tugging at her lovely, elegant lilac dress. Skye’s hair has been styled into a tight bun, and she looks beautiful but very uncomfortable.

  “Girls, please leave us. The ball starts in an hour, and I expect neither of you to look any different than how you do now,” Courtney demands, clicking her fingers. “That means you, Skye. If you accidently fall into a mud puddle like that time at the last party, you will be in trouble.”

  Skye’s smirk says it all. That was no accident.

  “Thank you for my dress, auntie Courtney!” Phoebe says, running to her and hugging her tightly. Courtney smiles down at her as Phoebe lets go and leaves the room with Skye grumbling behind her. Courtney turns her gaze back to me, a sour look of contempt in her eyes as she notices I’m not in the dress she left on my bed. I turn my head back to the white dress. It will be tight, and no doubt will fit me perfectly with its long V-neck lacy top. The bottom half is purple underneath layers of lace and satin.

  It looks like a wedding dress.

  And I’m certain Courtney is playing some game with this dress, which I really, really don’t want to wear despite how beautiful it is. Dresses aren’t my thing, and I doubt that will ever change.

  “Why aren’t you dressed?” Courtney asks with an overdramatic sigh. “Never mind, do sit down so Isabella and Daniella can sort your hair out.”

  “I can do my own hair, thanks,” I grit out, crossing my arms.

  “Leave us for a moment!” Courtney shouts, and the two women practically run out of the room. Courtney waits until the door slams behind them before she walks up to me and grabs my arm. “I have been nice to you so far, but you are pushing your luck with me. Your mum was always the same, always breaking the rules, always doing what she wanted and damn the consequences!”

  “Then she lived, didn’t she?” I growl out, pulling my arm from hers. “Have you lived, Courtney? Stuck in this cold, empty castle with nothing but children you stole, who will never truly love you!”

  “What could you know about my life, Anastasia? You are a child just like Bethany!” she sneers at me and grabs my chin, turning my gaze to hers. “And what did living a wild life get your mum? I will tell you what, it got her an early death and her children thrown into the human foster care system! It was reckless and dangerous!”

  “Their death was an accident, not caused by how they lived their lives,” I reply, but my voice wobbles.

  “Nothing about your parents’ death was an accident, Anastasia,” she says, her tone far softer this time. “Now sit down and let me keep you alive.”

  “What does that mean?” I question, and her eyes are locked with mine.

  “Did you ever see your parents’ familiars?” she asks me, and I pause…no, I didn’t. I can’t remember, but I don’t think so. “Your mother had a black cat, raggedy little thing that was fiercely protective of her. Your father was born with a dove, the bird of peace, ironically. I don’t know why the car your parents were in crashed, but I read the report. It was like they just died in their seats and the car drove straight off the road into a truck. The only way we die like that is if our familiar is killed.”

  “So you think someone killed them?” I ask. “Someone who knew what their familiars were?”

  “Yes, and I want revenge for you,” she tells me, and I actually think she means that.

  “Why do you want that?” I ask, placing my hand on the chair. “Why exactly do you care so much?”

  “Sit down, and I will tell you,” she asks, and reluctantly I sit down. Her hands run through my hair, grabbing a bunch of it before she grabs scissors off the side. I try to get up, but she rests her hand on my shoulder, making me pause as I meet her eyes in the reflection. “I am only cutting the purple tips of your hair off. The House of Dawn’s colour is red, and our family colour is purple. They will see your hair as you siding with me, and that isn’t your choice...yet.”

  “Fine,” I nod in agreement, and she slowly cuts off the purple tips until my hair finishes at my shoulders.

  “I wasn’t there when you were born, but I was there for Bethany’s birth,” she says, a small smile on her lips as she brushes my hair. “Your mum loved her so much, and so did I. I held her for hours whenever I could, singing her songs and loving her. My sister was always so irresponsible and wild that it surprised me to see how she cared for Bethany, how she changed everything about herself to make sure Bethany was happy. See, if my sister is watching down on us from wherever she is, I want to make sure she knows I am trying to care for her daughters like she did.”

  We both stay silent for a long pause as I try to work out how to feel about this. I know my mum and dad were good parents, at least before all of this. We had a small, but filled with love, house in a tiny village. We never had much money, or that’s what Bethany told me, but it didn’t matter. We had love, and that was worth more than money. I glance at my aunt, and for a second I realise she must have been so hurt when my mum left with Bethany, especially if she cared for Bethany like she said she did.

  “Why is Bethany not with you? What happened when she first became a familiar?” I ask.

  “I have an adopted son called Damon Violeta. His parents died when he was three, and I took him in not long after your parents left. Damon and I were close, and I never would have expected him to betray me, but he did. I sent Damon to watch Bethany at university, to wait for the best time to meet her and tell her about our world. The same for you and Phoebe, as well,” she explains, and there is pain in her voice.

  “I’m sure Bethany spoke to me about sleeping with...” I drift off, and she tensely smiles at me in the mirror.

  “I didn’t think they would get that close, but it happened. When Bethany changed and Dawn appeared, Damon drove them in a van to me. In the meantime, I went and got Phoebe, who I had been visiting for weeks to form a bond with. Your foster mother was happy to let me take her once I showed proof of our relationship and only asked for her back for a day around Christmas. I believe you saw a video recording, and I made sure Phoebe didn’t say anything because it wasn’t the right time. Everything was going as well as could be expected until we landed back in the empire, and the House of Dawn was waiting. Damon...well, he changed houses and loyalty, and Bethany chose to go with him because of whatever your uncle whispered in her ear,” she explains to me. I wish I could believe her, but I’m not sure. I’m really not sure who to believe in this crazy world.

  “You do know it’s impossible for me to know who to trust?” I ask, looking down at my lap. “If anything in this city can be trusted, that is.”

  Except for my guys. I need them here to help me. To guide me.

  “I don’t want your trust or love. I want your respect and desire to not let our house fall, Anastasia,” she softly tells me a
nd walks to the door. She pauses, her hand on the handle and looks back. “Did you know my middle name is Anastasia?”

  My eyes widen in shock as she opens the door and lets the stylists in, who get to work on my hair as my thoughts swirl around. My mum and dad named me after Courtney...but why would they do that if they were running away from her?

  There is only one simple answer: they wouldn’t.

  And if my parents didn’t run away from this house, that means they ran from something else. Maybe the House of Dawn.

  And they have my sister.

  Chapter 10

  Anastasia

  Party of my dreams. Not.

  I slowly walk down the corridor, smelling cooked food mixed with perfume and flowers. The chitter-chatter of people’s voices and shoes against the stone drift to my ears over the sound of soulful music. Occasionally someone laughs loudly, the sound so out of place in this cold castle. How did my mum live here and be so happy? I come across the painting of my mum, dad and Bethany again. Just staring at it haunts me and fills me with a million questions I know can never be answered by staring at a painting. Maybe my uncles know the answers? Or they might know more lies.

  I’m not sure if I can believe a single word anyone here says. The shiny glass in front of the painting reflects my own image in the light, and I hardly recognise myself. The dress fits me to a T and is surprisingly comfy, even though I’m not a fan of it. My hair is tucked into a messy bun with curls and braids complicatedly pushed throughout it. Light makeup hides my pale skin, but my eyes haven’t changed.

  I still look as lost as ever. I wonder what it will take to find myself, and if ever I will find anything in this place other than a past full of secrets. Someone clears their throat near me, and I nearly jump, turning around to find three men in suits. All three of them have grey hair, but that’s really all that is alike about them. The man in the middle has a long nose, curt cheeks and a willowy build. The other two at his side stand a little back, and they are both average builds with longer hair than the one in front. Their suits are all black, but what catches my attention is the pin clipped to the breast pocket. It’s a sun inside a circle with dozens of swirls around the edges.

  “The House of Dawn, I guess?” I ask, crossing my arms and standing straighter. The man in the middle drifts his gaze up and down me in a scrutinising way before looking up at the painting.

  “Bethany and Phoebe look like your mother, but you?” he pauses and smiles. But it’s like a cat smiling as it’s about to eat a rat. “You have your father’s face and his soul. I sense it.”

  “Anastasia Noble,” I hold my hand out, trying to brush off his words. “I believe you three are my uncles. Any chance you’ve seen my older sister about?”

  The one in the middle grips my hand tight and tugs me closer, and I nearly stumble into him before holding myself up. He is stronger than he looks. My little wince of fear must have been sensed by Shadow, as in seconds he is at my side and growling. The two step back, but the one holding my hand never moves as he looks at me alone.

  “My name is Archibald Dawn, Junior, and I am your uncle,” he finally states, and I tug my hand away. Archibald points at his brother on his left. “This is Gerald, and on my right is Stewart. We are honoured to meet you.”

  “I can’t say the same with everything I’ve heard,” I sourly reply.

  He laughs, but the sound is uncomfortable. “Which little bird has been tweeting in your ear, dear Anastasia?”

  “Who said it was a bird?” I say with a large smile to hide how I’m feeling inside. “Now excuse me, my aunt is waiting for me downstairs.” I nod once to them and try to step around, but Archibald roughly grabs my arm. I bite down on my lip so I don’t make a sound as he leans close.

  “We are watching you, and we do not let our family go. Make sure you figure out where your home is quick, because I will get impatient, and I will find a way to make sure you join the House of Dawn. It is what your father would have wanted for you,” he growls.

  “What about my mother?” I ask, tugging my arm out of his. He simply smiles and shakes his head. I make sure to keep my head high so no tears fall as I go down the stairs, where two waiters offer me a drink. I decline them and head through the large wooden doors to the ballroom of my dreams. Literally.

  The room is jam packed with people, all of them in small groups or dancing at the back of the room where a piano and singer are playing music. The singer has black hair that matches her long black dress, and a white, lacy mask covers her face. Feeling overwhelmed, my feet stay rooted to the floor until a voice whispers in my ear and a warm hand rests on my back.

  “Smile and walk. You aren’t alone. You never are.” I swiftly turn my head, and my eyes clash with Alex’s.

  Relief and the urge to wrap my arms around him battle within me at the same time. Thank god he is here with me.

  “Always saving the day, it seems,” I reply, and he laughs as he guides me into the room. I run my eyes over his black tuxedo that fits him like a glove, outlining his amazing body underneath. When I trace my eyes up to his, I find him staring right back at me as he sips on a glass of champagne.

  “Alexander George, I did not remember your invite being sent out,” Courtney drones as she steps in front of us. Dressed in a stupidly silly, tight, dark purple dress that is just about held up by her chest and drops to the floor, she frowns at us. On her wrists, bracelets that are likely worth more than twenty cars sparkle in the light, and around her neck lies a necklace with a giant amethyst stone that is really beautiful, but still over the top.

  “The George home may be burnt down, but I still stand, and so does my house,” he tightly answers her. “And while you may have no respect for me, you will for my house name and how I deserve to be here for my girlfriend and my sister.”

  “Girlfriend?” Courtney asks at the same time I shout the word in my head, knowing I can’t ask Alex about that now.

  “Do you want an explanation about what a girlfriend is next?” Alex sarcastically asks. “It involves my tongue—”

  “Enough!” Courtney whisper shouts, and Alex smiles. “Just go, and do not make a show of yourself tonight.”

  “Of course, Miss Violeta. Why would we ever do such a thing?” Alex drones, tugging me away with him. He places his empty champagne glass on a passing waiter’s tray before tugging me again into the dancers, twirling me around to the music before pulling me back to his chest.

  “So I’m your girlfriend now?” I quietly question, and he smirks down at me.

  “From the second I saw you, I knew you’d be something to me, and it pissed me off,” he whispers to me, and I frown at him, which only makes him smile. “But, Tassie, you wore me down and now you have me. Aren’t you lucky?”

  “You’re an asshole, Alex,” I chuckle, but all my laughter disappears when he leans closer, his lips inches from mine.

  “But I’m yours,” he replies just as the song ends, and I want to kiss him. Only Courtney and a young guy stop right next to us, and Alex lets me go a little but not a lot.

  “Anastasia, I never knew you were such a good dancer,” Courtney claps, and a few other people around her join in. “This is Cairim from the House of Kavran, and he would love to dance with you. You will agree, won’t you, sweet niece?” I briefly gaze at the pretty blond guy around my age at her side before nodding. It was never a question.

  “I will get us some drinks,” Alex murmurs and kisses the side of my head, lowering his voice. “If he puts his hand too low, I will cut it off.” Alex makes sure to say that loud enough for Cairim to hear, and he gulps. Alex stares him down for a moment, and I squeeze his hand. “I will need three to see him dancing with you.” Alex glares at Cairim as he takes my hand and leads me further into the dancers. He doesn’t talk for the first part of the dance, and I’m grateful right up till he decides to talk after all. What happened to enjoying silence?

  “Our families think we will be a perfect match, but honestly?” He tilt
s his head to the side, and I notice how bright green his eyes are. “I have no interest in the middle sister of a rich family. Everyone knows the oldest will inherit the lot, and you want to run away.”

  “Good thing you never stood a chance with me. I’d rather jump off that cliff over there than entertain this idea,” I reply with a sweet voice. He laughs like I said something enchanting, and I now know he is good at keeping up appearances.

  “Either way, we should smile and pretend to be friends. Our families are both as important as each other,” he remarks, sounding as bored as I feel. The dance seems to drone on for a long time, whereas Alex’s dance seemed like seconds. I guess when you are dancing with someone you like, possibly love, then time just disappears. Thankfully, the song ends and people clap as Cairim bows to me and leaves. I turn around, expecting to see Alex, but instead Bethany is there, looking nothing like the sister I left at university, the sister I’ve been so desperate to see. Bethany’s long hair has been cut shorter, and the one side is completely braided and clipped back. Her blue eyes cut into mine with every second we stare at each other. Her dress is similar to mine, but hers is black at the top, dropping down into a blood-red skirt. The whole dress is covered in small crystals that match the ruby necklace hanging from her neck.

  “Did you know this house, the House of Dawn and the House of George were the homes of the first familiars and their animals?” Bethany asks, and it really wasn’t what I was expecting her to say or do. “Funny how we have all three of their descendants in this room.” She nods her head to the side, where Alex is talking with a black-haired man, but Alex’s eyes are on me.

  “Since when do you care about history, Beth?” I ask, stepping closer to her. Her eyes betray her cold stance as she looks in pain for a brief second, but she hides it well.