Taken By Werewolves (Lost Princess 0f Howling Sky Book 1)

by Kamryn Hart

  “Good morning,” I said when Aerre and Caspian looked my way.

  “Good morning, Princess,” Caspian replied with a serious face. “I need to take you back to the castle. The king is worried.”

  “Sorissa,” I corrected.

  Aerre was silent, sitting at a table with his hands clasped. I noticed he and Caspian were wearing casual clothes today. They weren’t equipped with heavy-duty belts, and the sleeves of their shirts were short. I could see the smooth skin of their arms up to their bulging biceps. The prominent veins in their arms had me feeling a bit lightheaded.

  “Princess, we’re going back to the castle,” Caspian restated.

  “No,” I growled. “I’m not going back to the castle. You said I wouldn’t be a breeder here, but that’s exactly what your king wants from me.”

  “The king won’t make you mate with anyone.”

  “But he’ll shove all his sons, all suitors, in my face to try and convince me otherwise?”

  Aerre covered his mouth. Judging by the twinkle in his eyes, he was trying to hide a smile or maybe a laugh.

  I looked between the two werewolves and asked, “Are you going to force me?” The thought of that made my heart sink. It made me feel defensive and like maybe Phantom Fangs had somehow tricked me into believing they genuinely cared about me, or at least what happened to me. I also wished I had moonlight so they’d know there was no damn way they could ever force me to do anything. Tonight. Tonight, I would get to recharge as long as I wasn’t locked up in some dungeon or something.

  “We don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do,” Aerre spoke up. “But it would be wise not to challenge the king. We want to keep you safe.”

  “The king is just worried,” Caspian said. He sighed, and his broad shoulders slumped forward. He looked tired.

  They seemed sincere. Maybe Phantom Fangs felt like they had no choice. Maybe they didn’t. Kings ruled kingdoms. Did that mean they ruled everyone inside? Were kings the only ones with free will in this world? If so, I was determined to find a way to change that.

  I tucked away my aggression. “What if you show me more of Wolf Bridge first?” I said. “Then I’ll go back to the castle.”

  Caspian picked up a small rectangular box with an antenna sticking out of it. He pushed a button and said, “The princess says she’ll happily return to the castle after breakfast and a quick jaunt around the area.”

  When he released the button, a dismembered, crackly voice replied, “Very well. Make sure she has a good time and that you bring her back early enough to prepare for the Full Moon Banquet.”

  Caspian set the tech on the table and leaned back against it, folding his arms. Once again, the bulging muscles in his arms caught my attention. I loved the way his dark skin seemed to reflect blue and how Aerre’s tan skin reflected gold. I was confident in my strength combined with moonlight, but without it, these werewolves made me feel small, even breakable—but not in a bad way. When I was sitting close to Aerre on the roof, I felt safe. When I fell asleep leaning against Rodrick, I also felt safe. They were somehow hard and soft at the same time.

  “Satisfied, Princess?” Caspian asked.

  “If you call me Sorissa, I will be,” I replied.

  Finally, Caspian grinned. I adored that look on him. When he wasn’t smiling, something was wrong. It was natural for him to smile. “Sorissa. I brought you a change of clothes, pants and a shirt instead of a dress, because I had a feeling this would happen.”

  “Finally. Thank you, Caspian. And what’s the Full Moon Banquet?”

  “It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Aerre said. “Important werewolves come to the castle garden to dine, dance, and recharge in the light of the full moon.”

  “Will Phantom Fangs be there?”

  “Yes,” Caspian said. “The king requests our presence.”

  I liked the sound of that. It meant I could look forward to this Full Moon Banquet instead of dreading it.

  “Where are Rodrick and Todd?” I asked.

  Aerre stood up and pulled out a chair from the table. He looked at me and gestured to it, so I took the seat and thanked him. Then he placed a pan on what had to be a stove and pulled out some meat from a box that let out cold air.

  “Todd is in the castle, in the Heart specifically, and Rodrick is out fighting,” Caspian informed.

  “Fighting where?” I asked and took in a big whiff of the meat now simmering inside of the pan. It smelled like beef, and the seasonings Aerre was sprinkling on it made the aroma even better.

  “They hold fights in the square, in the Tech Off Zone, so humans can blow off some steam. It’s friendly competition. The winner takes on new challengers until he’s defeated.”

  “Werewolves won’t fight Rodrick in the coliseum inside the Tech On Zone because he’s tethered,” Aerre commented. “Humans probably only humor him by fighting in the square because he scares them shitless, and they don’t want to get on his bad side.”

  “Werewolves won’t fight Rodrick because they’re afraid he’ll take them down,” Caspian interjected.

  “Then there’s Todd. He hardly ever comes here. He likes to sleep in the Heart. It’s like his tech mistress or something, his one true love,” Aerre mocked with a smirk on his lips.

  “No. Todd’s prepping for our next mission to break the Mate Claim you didn’t ask for, Sorissa. He works harder than anyone,” Caspian defended, but he wore a playful smile.

  The mood in the house was easy, friendly. Aerre and Caspian were obviously good friends, and I loved that. It made my chest squeeze. It made me wish I could be as close to them as they were to each other. Aerre resented being tethered, but it didn’t look like he resented Caspian. I felt like I could understand that.

  Caspian was kind and sweet. Being tethered to him meant a loss of freedom, but if Caspian never pulled his alpha rank, were Aerre and Rodrick really tethered? The lingering idea that Caspian could make either of them do anything he wanted was what brought out any resentment. I didn’t think it was right, but Aerre said he chose this. What did it all mean exactly? What was Phantom Fangs? What was the Mate Claim? Was a loss of freedom just how the world worked? Even I never had real freedom because I was never allowed to leave the woods, but freedom was something I highly valued. No one wanted to be forced to do something against their will.

  “Hope you’re hungry,” Aerre said as he placed a plate of steaming hot meat in front of me.

  “Very,” I said. I hadn’t realized until right then that my stomach was growling. My mouth watered with the delicious aroma. It was cut into strips, very easy to handle with my fingers. I took one strip at a time and savored the taste as it washed over my tongue. A contented hum buzzed on my lips.

  “This is delicious,” I announced.

  Caspian was still standing while Aerre sat at the table. Caspian was grinning at me instead of digging into his own meat. Aerre, on the other hand, was staring at his plate intently as he ate. I thought I saw a red tint in his cheeks, and he let out a little cough.

  “Did you eat cooked meat in your forest?” Caspian asked. “Or did your witch serve it raw?”

  My mouth dropped open after I swallowed. “We’re not barbarians!” I exclaimed. “Babaga taught me to cook meat very well, thank you.”

  That earned me a laugh from Caspian and a smile from Aerre—though Aerre tried to hide that by shoveling more food into his mouth.

  Finally, Caspian decided to sit down at the table and eat breakfast with us. Things quieted down, but it didn’t feel awkward. Silence with them was natural and somehow full.

  My eyes lingered on Caspian as I took in his dark, handsome features. Everything but his eyes was so like the princes Philip introduced me to. And his eyes were like the king’s. Even though the resemblance was so strong, none of them could hold a candle to Caspian. None of them made me burn like he did. I wanted to ask him about it, but I also didn’t. I was relieved he wasn’t among the princes. It meant we could ha
ve easy times like this without me feeling like he was trying to encroach on my already limited freedoms. But I wondered why he wasn’t with the other princes. Did he not want me as his mate or was it something else?

  I selfishly wanted to believe that Phantom Fangs was on my side—even if it meant going against their king. I wanted to keep this easiness I felt toward them, but I also wanted to dive in and really know them, each one of them. I wanted to be able to hold them close. Maybe that meant I wanted to make them my own “tethered.” But I didn’t want to make them do anything. I wanted them to stand by me because they wanted to. I wanted more than friends. I wanted a family.

  CHAPTER 22

  RODRICK

  AERRE WASN’T EVEN CLOSE to the only person who didn’t like me in Wolf Bridge. That list was long. To the werewolves and humans here, I was an “agitator” still. People respected me to a degree because I was part of Phantom Fangs, but the square was the perfect place for them to let out their frustrations. They didn’t have to hold anything back.

  My current opponent was a big guy close to my size. He had a couple scars, but they were nothing compared to mine. His hair was shaved, meaning there’d be nothing to grab on to for dirty fighting. It was a smart decision, but one I had always ignored. Anyone who fought me could use the handicap of my long hair—not that the handicap ever worked out for anyone. I was undefeated.

  We circled around each other in the dirt square bordered by the orange-red stones that made up the streets. It was located near some houses which was unavoidable because the Tech Off Zone tended to be compact, but it faced the backs of these houses where no windows were placed. It was kind of like being locked inside a cell made of blank tan walls.

  The guy snarled at me, but it didn’t hold the same weight that same action would have coming from a werewolf. I smirked and kept moving until we circled the entire square. It was the way these fights started. It was a chance to size up your opponent or to try and fake them out if you decided to. I never did anything more than smirk. It was a subtle fake out, but it relayed my confidence to the guy opposite of me. I could always see them stutter at least a little, suddenly second-guessing themselves.

  My current opponent stuttered in his first step right when the fight began. We leaped for each other after completing the circle, but his one bad step sealed his fate. I slid my bare feet on the dusty floor of the square and slipped out of his way just to bring my elbow down at a sharp angle. It connected with the back of his neck. I held back just enough not to shatter it. He hit the dirt face first. He sucked in pained gasps, gagging on the dust. I kicked him over onto his back so he could breathe. He wasn’t getting back up.

  “Surrender or I’ll have to throw you out of the square,” I said easily.

  I glanced at his buddy waiting on the sidelines. His mouth was agape. I had heard them bad-talking, acting tough, boasting about how they were going to bring me down and put me in my place. Things didn’t go according to plan.

  “I give,” the guy wheezed.

  His buddy ran into the square to help him off the ground. Then he dragged his sorry ass away. Several pairs of eyes watched them leave with their shame. My fights tended to bring a crowd. Mostly human. Once in a while, I’d be honored with the presence of a couple observing werewolves. But I always got the attention of the guards stationed here. Their job was to supervise things and ensure nothing got out of hand. It was almost like the king gave a fuck sometimes. This was one of those times. I had an audience of humans and a couple of werewolf guards today.

  “Who’s next?” I asked. I pressed my fists together, ready to go again. I relished this sport. Fighting kept my mind sharp. It allowed me to think with an almost perfect clarity. There was nothing better. This was also why I was a better mercenary than anything. Fighting was all about acting and reacting in a quick succession. It was all about black and white decisions. It was deadly precision or death in a real fight. There was no middle ground. There were no mottled grays.

  “Lucky bastard,” a man on the sidelines muttered. Another guy spat at my feet. The guards didn’t care about that sort of stuff. They were only there to stop physical violence from leaving the square. Everyone outside talked amongst themselves, trying to decide who to send into the square next to finally bash my head in for being “agitator scum.”

  I found it all more amusing than anything. I didn’t need to be a hero even though, as a human rebel, I was fighting for all humans. Even the lost ones. In time, they would see the truth. They’d either die alongside their precious werewolves or they’d join the rebels. I had faith the majority would pick the right choice.

  But I found myself questioning that when the memory of Sorissa seeped into the edges of my mind, pushing for the spotlight. I could see her there, in my mind’s eye. I could see her naivety, her innocence in a world she was just born into. She was a werea, but she didn’t fit werewolves. She didn’t fit humans. She didn’t fit vampires. She just was. And I wondered, what was the right choice?

  Because I wasn’t sure I had made it.

  I needed to fight today more than I ever had. I needed clarity, but the clearer my mind became, the more Sorissa shined. Could she be the right choice? Every option I had to consider paled in comparison to her. That kind of gut instinct was what I lived by, and it said this: handing the princess over to the rebels was the wrong choice. But it was the one I picked. Was that the result of loyalty? My loyalty and the choice between black and white never butted heads before. Now it did, and the more clarity I gained, the more certain I was that I had chosen wrong.

  The air in my lungs rushed out like I had been punched in the gut. I remembered Sorissa sleeping peacefully at my side in the roader, touching me like it was no big deal, like it was natural. And she was beautiful. I had never seen so much beauty contained inside of one living thing. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, and I still didn’t, but she made me ache in ways that I never would have thought a werea would have been capable of. But that was how she was an anomaly. She wasn’t a werea to me. She was just… Sorissa.

  I had had women, beautiful women back in Freedom, but it was never anything more than a moment to enjoy. Sex was casual and nothing I ever gave much thought to aside from that it felt good. I didn’t agonize over it. I didn’t need it. But Sorissa created this ache. I couldn’t stop thinking of her supple bronze skin. I wanted to feel that skin on my lips. I wanted to explore every inch of it.

  “Rodrick!”

  I knew I had lost it when the sound of her voice in my head became as clear as if she were right across from me. Prepared for disappointment, I searched the crowd, but I wasn’t disappointed. She was right there. Not in my head. The people gathered outside of the square made room for her, Caspian, and Aerre. I couldn’t stop the smirk on my face, the satisfaction at seeing her there, just across from me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  All eyes were wide and trained on the Lost Princess—especially the guards; they looked nervous, but since Phantom Fangs was with her, they didn’t do anything.

  Sorissa’s beautiful face lit up in a smile. Her dark eyes seemed to produce a light all their own. It was like she had a halo of light following her wherever she went, assuring she would be the focal point of anyone’s attention. I didn’t see it so clearly before, but I saw it now, and I couldn’t look away. Because she was the right choice. Everything inside of me said so.

  “That was amazing,” she said.

  “What was?” I asked.

  “The way you defeated your opponent with one blow right at the start.”

  “You saw that?”

  “Yes! Not up close, but I saw it.”

  The way she was beaming at me and the praise made me feel as if I had done something truly remarkable. Little sparks of fire were igniting in various parts of my body, even down to my knuckles. Was this part of her power as the Moonlight Child? It would have made me wary if I hadn’t been so taken by her, if I hadn’t already switched sides like it wa
s the easiest thing in the whole damn world to do. And maybe it was.

  Sorissa took a step forward and then another until she was well inside of the square. I didn’t process it until she was almost next to me. The little puffs of dust kicking up from her boots were as small and dainty as she was. That wasn’t to say she didn’t have any muscles, but she was lean, streamlined. She wasn’t dressed like a princess. She wore pants that hugged her legs, making it impossible not to see the definition of her perfect thighs. The shirt she wore was a bit looser. It tucked into the waist of her pants and had short sleeves. This look suited her, but I was surprised. I expected a dress, princess attire. Was this the king’s idea or Caspian’s?

  I glanced past Sorissa to see Caspian standing with his mouth wide open. Aerre looked the same but clearly horrified.

  “Sorissa,” Caspian said, “the square is only for fighters.”

  “I know,” she replied. “Rodrick, spar with me.”

  Gasps sounded off one after the other until they caught up in a united tone of disbelief. That same disbelief took a second longer for me to register. But, unlike everyone else, it only made my grin bigger.

  “I like your spirit, little fighter,” I said. I sized her up, looking her head to toe, wondering if she’d really be a match for me or not. I decided not. “We can spar if you like, but you’ll lose.”

  “I used to wrestle bears in the woods,” she announced. “Granted, I was using moonlight, but I think I learned a bit about one-on-one combat at least.”

  I hummed low in my throat. “Spunky werea. Show me your bear-fighting moves then, minus the moonlight. Rules.”

  “Rodrick!” Caspian exclaimed. “Really?”

  “You got a problem with this, Phantom Prince?”

  All eyes turned to Caspian. The guards were sweating. The humans were wide-eyed.

  “I don’t need his permission,” Sorissa said.

  Eyes were back on the princess.