by Bianca Mckay
“I must have heard you wrong. Did you not just say you wanted out of this place?” Dru asked.
Wren sighed heavily, mildly annoyed that he was still talking, but more aggravated with herself for talking aloud to herself. All it would take would be for this man to tell the Alpha what he overheard, and she would be watched so closely that there would never be an opportunity for her to flee.
The creaking of the cot was loud in the hut, followed by Dru’s frustrated huff. Wren turned her back on him, dismissing him as not her problem, even though it felt as a pit was opening in her stomach. All of this was so wrong.
She shouldn’t be torn between cutting him loose and saving herself. There shouldn’t be an evil witch lurking around the kingdoms making deals or punishing humans by turning them into beasts. There shouldn’t be an Alpha. There shouldn’t be a pack. There shouldn’t exist a place where half-humans live to conspire against unsuspecting humans. Above all, there should not have come a time where she was so desperate to provide for her ailing mother and a younger sister that she made a deal with the devil witch.
“I do,” Wren whispered, wishing she could take those words back the instant they were uttered.
She turned to Dru with a plea on the tip of her tongue, until she suddenly remembered he could not help her. Like overboiling water, the urge to blurt out the hideousness of Jurot and its people bubbled in her throat, but she swallowed and turned back to her task. How long had it been since she last had someone in which she could confide? When was the last time anyone looked at her with such empathy and understanding? She had been in Jurot for half a year, at least, listening to how blessed these people thought they were now that they were part wolf. Some called themselves chosen by the gods, and others were blindly loyal to the Alpha because they believed their families were taken care of or because of the extreme relief that came with having a home and food.
Wren, however, had not heard news of her mother or sister. Every message she sent out was intercepted by those who are allowed to leave Jurot and travel between kingdoms. Agatha had told her to be patient, that her mother would come for her when she was no longer frail and bedridden. None of these felt true in Wren’s heart, not after seeing the brutality of these beasts, after hearing the whispers of overtaking kingdoms. Her homeland of Olthaire was in danger, which meant her family was too. Nothing mattered more than her getting home and warning everyone, not even this young man’s life.
“I could help you if you let me,” Dru whispered back.
Wren tensed, her shoulders creeping upwards to her ears. That hollow feeling in her stomach expanded. If the Alpha made a celebration of their execution, she could run away. Two men would die, but she might save her family and an entire kingdom.
“You cannot help me,” Wren said softly, her heart breaking for the stranger she would leave to die.
She was a monster like the rest of them, a beast, she thought miserably. There was no difference in allowing him to die, maybe even watching some of it before she slipped away, and her doing the actual killing. She had sat on her chair and condemned him to his fate before he had spoken. It mattered not how much she fantasized about saving him; she knew that she would leave him if rescuing him did not benefit her.
Dumping the contents of each pack onto the table, Wren sifted through each pair of trousers, tunics, coats, and cloaks, turning out the pockets and shaking the garments loose. She pulled out first aid kits packed full of bandages, salves, and tinctures for fevers and coughs. Next came fire starting kits with bundles of kindling and matches that were spelled to light at a single whispered word. There were engraved hunting knives and vials of different colored liquids, one of which made Dru begin to breathe a little faster as she rolled it around in the palm of her hand.
“I can help you, I swear it,” Dru repeated, sounding earnest in his vow.
“Druas, is that you?” Thame mumbled sleepily where he lay.
“Yes, brother, it is I,” Dru answered, sounding relieved that his brother was now conscious.
Thame, however, flopped his head back down on the cot and began to snore absurdly loud. Dru huffed out a long sigh behind her, seemingly dejected. She relaxed a fraction, hopeful that he had given up trying to persuade her that they could work together to flee this wretched place. But her relaxed stance was gone in an instant as she dumped out two pouches heavy with coin. There were so many of them and not the dull silver ones that the poor folk saved for weeks in order to support their families. No, these were fat round golden coins, the kind only royalty or those in the inner courts had in abundance.
“Druas and Thame,” Wren mumbled to herself, her mind searching for why those names sounded so familiar.
With a gasp, she turned around and pointed an accusing finger at Dru.
“Druas, the gentle prince of Vildaheim. Thamyris, the ruthless heir to the throne,” Wren said on a breathy whisper, full of awe.
Then she broke into a hysterical fit of laughter.
“What is so amusing? Yes, we are the princes of Vildaheim, so now do you believe that I could be of great assistance to you?” Dru asked.
“Not at all,” Wren said through misty eyes. “You see, if I help you escape and I get caught, I’m dead. If the Alpha discovers who you are and sends word to King Thaddeus, both sides lose many in battle, which will mean I die because I refuse to kill or fight anyone. So no, you cannot help me, unless you can guarantee my safety, which does not appear to be something you can commit to at the present time.”
“As you have discovered, I have more than enough coin to secure all of us safe travels and buy the silence of many men who would otherwise wag their tongues as to your whereabouts,” Dru said smugly.
Wren walked around the hut putting out the burning lamps and candles, one by one, as she pondered this offer. She could simply steal the coin from the princes and make a run for it, but that would still leave two humans here amongst a pack of wolves to be eaten or put to death. And what if one of them eventually escaped their ill fate? Then King Thaddeus would put a price on her head, and she would be the enemy just as much as the Alpha. She would not just be stealing from two princes, but she would be just as responsible for their deaths.
The sun had risen fully, brightening the hut although the shutters were still closed. Soft yellow rays of light spilled through the cracks in the door, the few open spots in the logs, and beneath the shuttered windows.
“What would you have me do? Cut you both loose just minutes before the Alpha is due to arrive? We may as well just kill ourselves now if that is the best plan you have. We would never make it out of here without a distraction,” Wren hissed, her heart pumping wildly in her chest.
She couldn’t leave this place without them, especially now that she knew who they were. She couldn’t escape this hell just to enter a new one of looking over her shoulder every waking moment. She would forever fear that King Thaddeus discovered how she abandoned his sons and sent assassins after her.
“Nothing like that, no,” Dru said. “We actually need to play guests of this Alpha for a while longer.”
“That is madness; she will kill you,” Wren whispered harshly.
“Not when you have a lover’s draught on hand. One sip of that pink potion and she will become enchanted with the first man she encounters. There is nothing I cannot get her to agree with once she believes me to be her betrothed,” Dru whispered with a smirk, flashing his stained teeth.
Wren held back her cringe at the sight of his teeth, adrenaline flooding through her veins. To do this would be a betrayal of the worst sort. It would be worse than running away; it would be bewitching the Alpha for whatever reason the princes had. Her stomach roiled dangerously, the burning of vomit splashing upwards in her throat. With sweaty palms, Wren walked back to the princes’ belongings and snatched up the vial of pink potion. The vial was scorching hot, searing the flesh of her palm. Wren dropped it back down on top of the pile of clothes, her stomach churning violently as she swallowe
d hard. Her limbs felt shaky, sweat beaded at the nape of her neck, and the room spun as she swayed.
"Are you alright?" Dru asked, concerned, trying to sit up.
Wren shook herself, her mind snapping back to alertness, and she nodded weakly. The feeling passed as quickly as it had taken over her.
"Yes, I'm fine, just got dizzy for a moment," Wren replied. "What do you intend to do if you trick the Alpha into drinking the draught?"
Dru stared at her for a long moment, a dubious look on his face. Wren tapped her foot impatiently. She did not expect him to trust her with all of his secrets, but if they were to help each other flee Jurot, they needed a plan quickly. There was no time for gaining trust, not when Aeson and the Alpha could arrive at any minute.
"Spit it out, gentle prince, we haven't much time," Wren snapped.
"How do I know you wouldn't just tell your Alpha everything I say?" Dru asked, squinting his eyes at her.
"Aribelle is not my Alpha," Wren scoffed. "Do you think I want to be a part of this pack? I made the wrong choice, trusted the wrong person. A witch changed me into a beast, brought me here with promises of a good life for my family back in Olthaire. Only, I haven't heard from them, and I am not certain they are receiving my messages. Then to overhear what Aribelle and her army of beasts and magic wielders have planned for the other kingdoms! All of this talk about taking back the land owed to them about kingdoms recognizing them as leaders. Humans will die! My family may die! I have no intention of running to the beast and telling her a damn thing."
Wren's face was flushed a deep red color, her breath coming in harsh pants. Her teeth were clenched tightly as she glared at the man who was ignorant of what was at stake. The only thing that mattered was her family and the innocent lives that would be lost should Aribelle be allowed to follow through with her plans to overthrow the kings and queens of the lands. Loyalty to the person who had made the past several months of her life akin to torture was nowhere near being on her list of priorities.
Dru cleared his throat, looking a little sheepish, but contrite.
"We are here to stop her. There have been whispers of her plots that have reached as far as our father's ears, and we were sent on a mission to defeat the beast who rules Jurot without mercy. We are on the same side, Wren, this I swear to you," Dru said softly as his eyes gazed intently into her own.
Wren was lost in her thoughts, contemplating whether or not she should dare risk her life by helping the princes bewitch the Alpha when the door suddenly burst open. A chilly breeze blasted through the room, causing the fire to dance wildly in the grate. With her heart in her throat, Wren slid the coins and the potion into the pockets of her dress before turning toward the door.
One look into those viciously cold blue eyes had Wren whimpering where she stood.
Eight: A Dalliance
“Momma, when can I have a boyfriend?”
“When you are old enough to understand that you must use them before they use you.”
Dru cringed as his arms strained against the rope that held him immobile on the cot. The frightened look on Wren’s face made him wish to know what terrified her so. He longed for a knife from the pack, although he did not know how to defend himself with one, a weapon was better than lying down and taking whatever beating or mauling was sure to come.
“Calm yourself, whelp,” The husky voice said mockingly.
Dru recognized the voice from last night. The beast-woman was here to collect her prisoners as promised. Forcing himself to relax on the cot, Dru pretended like he was not listening or even concerned by the beast’s presence.
“What is that delightful scent mixed with your fear?” Aribelle asked, her heels clicking loudly on the limestone floor.
Dru watched as Aribelle came into view; she was much taller than Wren and completely opposite of the woman she now stood before. Aribelle was dressed in all black: black boots, black leather pants, and corset, both of which were skintight, and a lengthy cloak that fastened tightly around her neck with several silver spikes sticking out. Aribelle’s hair was straight, but windblown, adorning her hair, were several braids with blue and silver metallic beads at the ends.
The Alpha’s face was not painted in the pretty feminine colors that Dru was accustomed to seeing. Most of the women in Vildaheim wore very little makeup or painted their entire faces in light pinks and reds. Aribelle, however, wore pitch black paint on and beneath her eyelids, and a single light blue line from her plump bottom lip to her chin. It was exotic, and if Thame’s sharp intake of breath was any indication, Dru would say some men would also find it erotic.
Aribelle looked exactly as their father described: a beast. There was nothing about this woman that would suggest that Dru could simply ask her for assistance or trust her with anything. He could see it in her eyes that she was cunning, ruthless, cruel, and it mattered not which form she was in, beast or woman. He understood why Wren looked so terrified; the Alpha was a woman who had likely never offered mercy to anyone her entire life.
“Is it guilt?” Aribelle asked, licking her lips as she cocked her head. “Is it anticipation? Anxiety? Hmm. I am still sorting out the ability to taste emotions, so help me along here, whelp.”
Aribelle bent down to Wren’s height, which was a few inches shorter than her own, and smiled tauntingly. Dru tensed, hoping that Wren did not betray him to save her own skin. His heart began beating a wild gallop in his chest as he waited for Wren’s response. Surely, she would not be so stupid to blurt out their plot, for that would see them all dead at the Alpha’s feet.
“Ohh, I see,” Aribelle said, a wicked smile in Dru’s direction. “Did I interrupt something special? His heart is thundering, as is yours. Not to worry, I have nothing against mixing breeds, whelp. You are free to fuck the human male as soon as I am done with him…although he might be dead, so I’ll send for another just in case.”
“I-I don’t need another male,” Wren sputtered, her face cheeks flushing pink.
Aribelle waved a dismissive hand, as though getting another human here for Wren’s pleasure would be no trouble at all, which she confirmed with her next words.
“Nonsense, Nilzan brings back human females all of the time. You have needs, we all do. Goddess willing, you’ll develop a taste for human flesh as well, and then we can all howl at the moon and celebrate your newfound wickedness. I’ll be honest, I was planning to kill you soon, but if this is you shedding your love of humanity, then I commend you for making the right choice. I mean, to use this handsome prisoner, all tied up and vulnerable, for your own pleasure knowing he is to die…”Aribelle nodded her head and clapped slowly, looking mad with glee.
“I WAS—” Wren began to shout indignantly.
“Is that why you were discussing payment?” Dru asked loudly, cutting off Wren’s vehement denial.
“W-What?” Wren choked out, her eyes flashing dangerously as she whirled on him.
“What’s this now?” Aribelle asked, looking delighted.
“I-I asked for some water,” Dru stammered, blindly pulling together what he hoped would be a believable story. “She said I could have whatever I desired if only I fulfilled her wishes first and granted her payment.”
Dru’s heart sunk as Aribelle narrowed her blue eyes at him, looking much like a fierce predator.
“Uh—” He said dumbly, as the Alpha stalked towards him.
There was nothing he could do, and he had run out of ideas to keep them all alive. She would kill him, then likely shift into her beast form and eat him. A shrill screech ripped from his throat as she bent over him, claws extending from beneath her nails. Her claws dug into his neck, pricking the skin as her hand wrapped around his neck. Squeezing roughly, she cut off his breathing as she snarled in his face.
“The whelp has never done any such thing, intruder. She walks around with her tail between her legs every single day. Not once has she embraced our ways, yet you expect me to believe this dribble? I think you both are hiding something
much more than a would-be dalliance,” Aribelle sneered.
There was a tinkling noise behind them, and Aribelle’s head snapped to the side. Dru’s eyebrows rose to his hairline as he saw Wren taking a pouch of his coin from her apron pocket and shaking it before letting it dangle from her finger by the string.
“He speaks the truth, Alpha,” Wren said, her cheeks still flushed with anger, although she played it off as shame.
Aribelle promptly released her hold around his throat, her own expression one of surprise.
“If you are indeed embracing our ways, whelp, then why do you look so ashamed?” Aribelle asked suspiciously as she walked back to Wren, seductively swaying her hips.
Aribelle looked over her shoulder at Dru, who was watching intently and winked at him with a smirk. Suppressing the shiver that raced up his spine, Dru stayed focus on his one ally in this beast-ridden place. Wren mumbled something unintelligible.
“Darling, if you’re not going to speak up so that the adults can hear you, then I’m afraid you’ll have to go play with the other pups until you grow up,” Aribelle said with an annoyed sigh.
Sitting down at one of the tables with her back against the far wall, Aribelle kicked her feet up on the desk and leaned back, lighting a cigarette with a match that she pulled from her cleavage. The Alpha’s eyes went rapidly from Dru to Thame, who was poorly pretending to be still asleep.
“Tell me, intruder. I know your brother would have laid with the whelp, but would you really have?” Aribelle asked with a cruel smile. “You don’t seem the type to be experienced. Hecate’s left tit, what am I saying? Most men aren’t experienced with anything more than the in and out of things if you know what I mean. You just don’t appear to be experienced with anything more than your hand, and a dirty limerick is what I meant.”
Thame went into a fit of raucous coughing at that moment, but he was unable to hide the curve of his lips due to his hands being tied above his head.
