Hekate’s Bride

A knock has my attention snapping to the door and I turn from the window, pulling it shut. I’ve spent the better part of my morning lost in thought, staring at nothing in particular.

Way better than getting plunged in hot water.

I’ve been thinking about everything. Dad, Hekate, the truth, the lies… it all seems like a lot.

Though, I’m against my father’s idea of forcing a mate on me, I understand his worry.

Hekate had said the curse wouldn’t take me. That sentence does mean a lot of things. It won’t take me, but it’d take everyone else.

And then what? We’ll both rule over a kingdom of dead wolves and lycans?

Goddess forbids it. Though I’m angry at my parents, I love them very much. I cannot imagine my world without them. Or my friends–even if they’ve all gone on with their lives without me.

I have considered father’s decision. Theron Frostclaw, Orion’s younger brother, stands as the next suitable choice for a mate. Strong, loyal, and fierce, as an alpha is expected to be. And the fact that he is a Frostclaw-the cherry atop the icing.

But I’m not going to mate with Orion’s brother, and this goes beyond my reluctancy to take a mate. It is simply wrong. I give my womanhood to one brother and give my life to the other.

I respect Orion’s memory enough not to do that.

But I will not let Hekate take this from me. My life. My heritage. My throne. My identity. So, yes, I do need a male to prevent being carted off to Goddess knows where if this shift is completed.

Yet, I find myself torn.

I understand what my duty demands of me, but I wonder if what I am to Hekate means that I can reach him when others can’t.

I wonder if it means I can get him to stop all of this. Forgive and let go.

Fat chance.

Crossing the room in swift strides, I pull the door open.

“Oh. Father,” I say, feeling all shades of weird.

“Can I come in?” He inquires, eyes pleading, as he presents a brown paper bag. “I’ve brought cheeseburger and fries?”

There is a slight pause in which my eyes dart from the bag to my father’s nervous smile. “MacDonald’s?”

“Double special,” he grins.

My lips twitch as I battle against laughter. I retrieve the bag from him and widen the door. “Only because I adore fries. And you.”

He appears out of place-too grand for my room, too regal for my princess-themed sanctuary. He settles at the edge of the bed, and a faint sense of déjà vu washes over me.

Right. Hekate perched there last night. In my dream.

Father’s nostrils flare, and my grip tightens around the package. Can he discern that I had a visitor? Can he detect the faint scent of a man and earth?

“Your mother received an invitation to Lycanthia. It is Queen Zephyr’s birthday today,” he pauses, his lips twisting into a pout that is almost comical for a king. “I thought I would spend the day with you instead, since my mate has forsaken me for cakes and fashionable dresses.”

Oh, good. He didn’t catch Hekate’s scent. Why would he? It was but a dream. There’s no way his fragrance would linger in here. Right? I’m just being paranoid.

“Ah,” I respond, settling beside him. “The lycans do have the finest fabrics.”

“Blasphemy,” Father mutters, and despite myself, I burst into laughter, unwrapping the paper bag. The enticing aroma hits me a moment later, and Sloan stirs, whining and purring, *Food.*

My mouth waters at the sight of the burger, and I gratefully grin at Father. “You’re the best.”

He returns the smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I apologize for my behavior.”

“I understand. I am sorry too,” I say, reaching for his adorned fingers-slender and elegant, much like the man himself. “It was never my intention for any of this to transpire. I know you’re worried, but I ask that you to trust me a little more. I am no longer a child.”

Father makes a his face. “I did, and now you are transforming into a lycan.”

“Low blow,” I joke, but my expression turns solemn quickly. “Rune did not… bite me. It’s… complicated.”

His fingers withdraw from beneath mine to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Try me.”This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I peer deeply into his eyes, and a sense of calm washes over me. Father and I have always shared this bond. I can confide in him, divulge anything, and be certain that he will listen and be there for me.

“I have been dreaming.”

He furrows his brow. “Of Rune?”

“No. Hekate. He visits me.”

Father’s hand freezes on my face before lowering slowly. “How long has this been happening…”

“A few days after starting school. In one of them, he bit me.”

His expression turns grim and distant, and I wonder if my words sound as stupid as I think they do to him.”I will summon the Priestess by nightfall. Perhaps she can shed some light on this. I do not know his intentions, but they cannot be good. I hope the Priestess may offer a solution to him infiltrating your dreams. However, you must understand that you must stay away from Rune henceforth.”

I swallow. Sure thing. I should mention Hekate’s last words to me from last night, but I’m pretty sure Father won’t let me go back to school without a body of guards watching my every breath if I do.

Like the guards he stationed outside my room after our argument.

I nod instead, offering him a promise in not sure I can keep, but I must try. “I will stay away from Rune.”

*************

*Ronan*

“You cannot deny how much of an opportunity this is, my King. The girl is the solution we have searched for. For decades. Centuries. Refusing to see past this will be considered as selfish–”

“My daughter will not be used as bait. Find another way to end this. Not with Astrid. No.”

The Priestess’ grey eyes flares with annoyance and she leans in, gaze fiercely locked with his.

No one else would dare to. No one else would be so insolent. But Atlas Moonburn could hardly be regarded as no one.

“Another way, Ronan?” Atlas challenged, voice dripping with impatience. “Not in two thousand years have we been granted a chance like this one. To finally rid ourselves of him. For good. And you refuse this? Need I remind you that you are bound by duty to the realm? A bond like this, blessed by the Goddess–”

Alpha King Ronan’s fist crashes onto the desk, shattering it, mirroring the damage his daughter had caused the day before. The loud crack fills the air, startling the priestess. “Do not invoke the Goddess’s name so recklessly, spinning your web of lies. I am no fool. I can tell your truth apart from your lies, Atlas.”

Priestess Atlas scoffs, pushing back from the desk. “How lowly you think of me. Will you never let it go?”

King gracefully rises from the chair, regal attire flowing about him. “I do not care for the past. Or you. Only my family, and I will not let you use my daughter as a pawn. If you cannot provide a solution to Hekate’s dreamwalk, then you are of no use to me. Be gone from my castle.”

The priestess chuckles, walking around the table and stopping only when she is toe to toe with the King, glancing up at him with wide eyes. Eyes he had found stunning in a different time.

A time before he’d met his mate.

“Be it as it may, Hekate will keep visiting the princess,” she cooes. “Every day she will think of him. Every day she will dream of him; feel closer to him. One day she will yearn for him; look for him. There is nothing you can do about it, Ronan. Finding her a mate cannot eviscerate the bond. It will only prolong the inevitable.” Her fingers rise, trailing a small line along the Alpha King’s chin. “She will burn for him, Alpha. She will die for him. Like Lorna did.”

Ronan seizes Atlas’s hand, his grip tight and forceful. “Like you burned for him?”

Her grin only widens and she pushes in closer, pressing her chest flush against his. Her eyes glitter with wicked delight. “It was his loss.”

Indeed it was. Atlas Moonburn had made sure of it. That Hekate had lost the one thing he’d come to love in his life.

And the only one who suffered the knowledge of her truth was Ronan, her Alpha King. Her chosen lover once in her very long life.

“You started this war,” Ronan says, crushing the delicate bones of her hand. Her smile falters, contorting into a grimace and then a whimper. “You end it. Never speak of my daughter again. Never take her name. Or my mate’s. Or I will kill you.”

Priestess Atlas gasps, face flushed and sweaty as pain consumes her.

“Do you understand?”

She nods swiftly, eager to be gone from the King’s presence before he broke whatever bones he hadn’t already shattered. “Yes.”

He let her go, turning from her swiftly, unable to bear the sight of her much longer. Once in his youth, he had been intrigued to indulge her. Stupid enough to warm her bed. Had gotten seduced by the darkness lurking beneath, the mystery.

Until he had learned a truth so deadly, she’d be burned alive for it.

And still he hid it, a foolish child who had thought he’d been in love.

And he’d been reminded of himself today. When he had looked in his child’s heart for the first time, her defenses down, walls broken. He had glimpsed the truth in his daughter’s heart, no matter that she was oblivious to it.

And it didn’t matter to what extent he’d go. He would protect her from it. From Hekate. Because if Hekate ever did learn the truth, he would kill them all.

That his Erasthai hadn’t died because the people wanted revenge.

Lorna had died for Atlas Moonburn’s jealous and yearning for a man who never noticed; and the entire realm, thirsty for blood and revenge, had unwittingly helped her achieve that.

A knife to the heart.