Iftia: Lyx Palace, Matrimonial Bedchamber

• Elianna •

A scream from a familiar voice startled her awake and she jackknifed up into a sitting position, trying to process the situation. It was a child's voice and panic quickly set in when Arell struck her mind. Turned at her waist, she pushed hard on Rowan as she stuttered nervously, "R-Rowan."

He didn't budge, not at all. The man had sunk too deep in his sleep and no matter how hard she nudged on him, he wouldn't wake. Something's wrong, horribly wrong.

For a light sleeper like Rowan, it was almost impossible for him to still sleep through all the noise and her pushes. Hurriedly pulling the blankets aside, she stretched her legs out and got off the bed. She put on a thick mantle and rushed out of the bedchamber. Fires that were supposed to lit the hallways had been extinguished and darkness loomed over the whole place. Guards placed on patrol fell completely unconscious and their bodies littered across the hallways.

In the grip of silent panic, she felt her heart beating harder and faster as frigid adrenaline pumped through her veins. She turned to one of the bodies on the ground and placed her fingers against the part of their neck where their pulse should be. Still there. She felt slow pulsing against the tender skin of the guard's neck and heaved out a small sigh of relief. Forcing herself straight, she ran towards the direction to get out of Lyx. She didn't have the luxury to check on everyone, hoping that every other guard was simply conscious and not dead.

Her mind was on the verge of being seized up and her body was forced against a shut down from the overwhelming fear, but her maternal instincts demanded her to continue moving. The main doors into Lyx remained wide open as the bitterly cold winds howled fiercely through the entrance and snow began to pile against the marbled ground. With a sense of foreboding, she left the palace and followed the confusing footsteps on the ground into the woods behind the palace.

At the first trace of magic she felt through the bleak wintry night, she dissipated into her shadows and hunted the enemies down like a relentless hound. Her tamed shadows shuddered in excitement, feeding on the trepidation she felt as they anticipated their master to fulfil their insatiable bloodlusts.

Her sudden appearance had stopped a pack of wolves in their tracks as they took a defensive stance and lowered themselves enough to power a lunge should situation calls for a fight. When Elianna opened her eyes, the first thing she glared towards was the wolf biting onto the collar of the shirt of an unconscious child — Arell. His small limbs were swinging limply and her heart clenched in her heart while anger boiled in the depths of her. Dropping her gaze, she assumed the leader of the pact and warned, "Hand the child over."

The pact of silver-white wolves kept their predatory glare on her, keeping her in their view with their iridescent pale eyes that reflected the argent moon. A few howls were exchanged in an attempt to communicate before they moved, circling her while the one holding onto Arell retreated.

Infuriated, Elianna took a step forward, prepared to sprint towards the wolf who held onto her child. At that moment, the wolves surrounding her burst through the cold tension towards her. Unlike dogs, this family of canine moved in choreographed motions. There was intelligence in their eyes as they graced through the air with wariness and calculated steps.

Yet, they made a grave mistake to underestimate her.

She dodged their attacks with swift accuracy, flickering through space in a more elaborate dance and taking them by surprise when her enemies failed to predict her advances. She released her shadows, each of them wrapped their darkness against the white of their thick furs with a kind of devilry impatience to taint the canvas of their purity. She allowed them, giving her shadows a taste of the blood that they were starved of and at the first scent of it, they were driven feral. When she finished every last member of the pact, she turned to the one who held onto her child and repeated, "Hand the child over."

The wolf stared at her with fear in its eyes and released the grip it had on the collar of her child. It attempted to run, raced through the cold and join the rest of its kind hiding somewhere in the corners of the Royal Grounds, but she commanded her shadows to form a barrier, stopping it in its track as she said icily, "Don't rush to leave, little wolf. You and I need to talk."

Elianna quickly picked Arell from the bed of snow and hugged him towards her. The child was still breathing in a paced manner but his skin grew so cold that it only caused the fury in her to grow as she wished to shred every inch of the wolf in front of her to exact the vengefulness she felt. These therianthropes had the nerve to hurt her loved ones and if not for them, Thunder never had to risk his life to return to Thethia too. She demanded, "How many of you are here?"

The wolf refused to reveal its human form to respond to her and it simply stood where it was, daring her to take its life. Then, a realisation rushed to her when she figured out that this whole incident was plotted to pull her away and stall her time.

No. Please don't.

She whipped herself around and looked towards the palace and saw a flash of red that cracked through the darkness above like lightning in the sky. Her heart sank, knowing that she had left Rowan vulnerable and by himself in their bedchamber.

A small huff sounded from behind her and she noticed that the wolf was probably feeling relief that its mission was accomplished but Elianna exhaled a mirthless laugh, "You think I've forgotten about you?"

Covering Arell's eyes and ears with her hands, she allowed her shadows to lurk from behind her and consumed the wolf in whole. All that was left was a painful howl that splintered through the dead of the night and the gruesome splatter of blood on the ground. Her shadows danced above the bed of snow that was stained in red and she commanded them back to her. Albeit reluctant, her shadows knew their master and retreated as told. She turned around, tugging Arell close to her and left the woods without hesitation.

I am no saint and I only reserve mercy and kindness to those I love.

Despite knowing that her body would be drained from all her exhaustion from tonight, she dissolved into her shadows with Arell in her arms and teleported both of them back to Lyx.

━━━━━━━━━━

Iftia: Royal Palace, The Queen's Bedchamber

• Queen of Iftia, Silvestra •

Silvestra continued to torment Rowan, breaking through the bind he placed to lock her gift away in him. He struggled and resisted but she was determined to succeed because she managed to distract that wench away from him. And with the borrowed powers from the wolves, this time, she made sure to rise in triumph.

Getting past his last defence, she felt her gift burned through her as they crashed into her with the force of an enormous tide that washed her consciousness off that mirror of dreams. A galling force pushed against her and she shot up with a scream when her eyes flew open, staring right onto the red inscriptions that crawled along her skin before they faded. A smirk grew wide on her face.

Finally. I finally got them back.

"Remember your end of the deal, Queen of Iftia. That wench you mentioned managed to endure the sleep magic and she killed every last member of the wolves I deployed." An angry snap sounded from an eerie voice that echoed in her ears and she glanced up to face the queen of the wolves, Kynthia.

Kynthia sat in the settee facing her bed, watching her with a raptorial gaze. Under the silvery moonlight, the wolf queen's eyes shone in amber that contrasted against the cold of her silver hair. Her anger was apparent but it was all part of their deal. 

The ravening wolf queen had offered a tactical gambit to her. Kynthia wanted the panthers and a place in the realm, while she wanted revenge and a right to the throne. If the two of them were not a match made in heavens to overthrow the reign, then they were nightmares that rose from hell to destroy the ones who wronged them.

"Consider it done, Wolf Queen," Silvestra simpered. "I've already sent the little panther in Lyx on his way, though I wonder if he managed to send the message alive."

"I know Izekiel well enough," Kynthia nodded in acknowledgement.

"You could've taken a place in the realm without stepping on the cat's tail, Kynthia," Silvestra scoffed.

"I'm well into my centuries and old enough to not need a human, telling me what to do," Kynthia warned. "I'm only stepping on Izekiel's tail for something he owed me a hundred years ago and it's about time that darned cat pays for it."

"Whatever you say," Silvestra exhaled an amused laugh before excusing herself. "I have somewhere else to be."

"In this late of the night," Kynthia gave a sweeping mention. "Where to, Queen of Iftia?"

"My son, Matthias," Silvestra replied simply.

※

queen of lycanthropes, kynthia 

"years of love have been forgotten —
in the hatred of a minute."

please vote and comment if you're enjoying the read!