Lýkos Theós

Chapter ΓI

The day had been filled with sparring match after sparring match. Ambrosia saw the determination in Nicandros's eyes as he soon accepted the offer she was giving. Calypso was sent into the corridor, Belen following her heels as both twins stood at ready to throw the Little wolf down. Ambrosia eyed his stance, the way his muscles contracted and claws exposed themselves. She wanted to test him like no other, though small to the rest, he was on a road of true power. He mustn't be treated as though he was any other member.

She had high expectations for the captain who had ruled his own wolves, and knew he was fit for her. She knew the moment she saw him taking the very same stance he took as the twins circled him that first night. It was his growl that caught her attention, and the feral bearing of his teeth towards wolves that were twice his size. She hadn't met anyone outside of the legendary city of Sparta that dared face her twins of malice. They alone had legends spoken by many oracles that promised destruction in their future. 

Some Lycans had gathered and watched as the Little Wolf was thrown down, though disgusted at his weakness and the amount of times he had been pushed to his knees, they could all agree he had determination. The more Ambrosia watched him fail the more Nicandros arose with anger, saliva dripping down his canines like an infected animal as he continued to charge towards the Hazel eyed twins who snickered each time he fell.

Ambrosia's jaw clenched each time the snow touched his knees. She'd hoped he'd grow angry at his weakness, to see that he needed her. But his determination to pull one of the twins down to the snow proved that he wanted nothing to do with what she had to offer. Ambrosia could picture the glory they would bask in after tearing those who doubted them down. She imagined bathing in the blood of their enemies, those he would soon inherit from her centuries of reign. There was power in the making of enemies, and those who could be deemed as such to her meant that they served as exciting feasts every now and then. 

They could bathe in the bodies of those who mocked them, just as the copycats had not only hours ago. She had dismissed her thephteroi from the discussion of their next move, having already sent out lycans to investigate the bodies and ordered mystics to sample the snow. No news had arrived yet from their investigation of the red eyed lycans. Ambrosia leaned into her cushioned seat, swirling her sharpened nails over the gold carved armrest.  

The sun was beginning to set and tired of seeing Nicandros spit blood out of his mouth Ambrosia called the sparing off. Her chest rumbled as her single word of 'enough' echoed through the courtyard. The lycans watching bowed their heads and disbanded so as to not anger the queen who's relaxed frame could change in an instant. Ambrosia would allow Nicandros to rest for the night hoping that the silence in his room would make him think of ways to better the attacks he threw at her thephteroi and have him prepare to do it all over again tomorrow.

Nicandros forced his body to stand tall as he walked away from the smirking twins who, in hours of lazily donging his attacks, had broken a sweat and made his way outside to the main entrance. The gaze of the lycans who had feigned being busy burned onto his bloodied skin until he reached the stone steps of the palace. He sat down, grimacing as he gripped his side that was already turning blue and purple. He needed fresh air, the suffocating feeling of Ambrosias gaze seemed to drain him of whatever air he breathed.  He rested his back against a column, not realizing there was a child doing the same as he was on the other side. 

His head turned slightly, seeing the head of the girl, the same one who wordlessly obeyed her queens orders. Her brown hair lay straight down her back as she stared out into the forest, legs hanging off of the ledge of the first step. 

"You fight well for a wolf," she says, still staring off.

Nicandros shifts closer to try to see the face of the child that spoke. The child had watched Nicandros fight as she practiced with who, what he assumed, was her father. Readying herself for the full moon to come. She could see that Nicandros was not yet ready to receive the power from the Queen she herself was surely to receive soon. Toned muscled arms showed the countless hours she's spent preparing for her coming of age day. The day the queen would choose those who were deserving of the strength to be a lycan. The had hoped to be like her father, one of the fastest lycans in the Queens special legion. Wanting to make herself known, she'd asked her father countless times to fight in the main courtyard where the queen frequented in hopes of catching her attention.