The Queen's Army

Part 5

Z was glad that he was not the only one who gasped. He instantly peeled his gaze away from Her Majesty and stared straight ahead, at the black cavern wall. His palms began to sweat, but he resisted the urge to wipe them on his pants or check his face for remnants of their meal.

The piece of meat blissfully relinquished its hold on his tooth, and he swallowed.

“Gentlemen,” said the queen. “I am here to congratulate you on the progress you’ve all made as soldiers in my brilliant new army. I have been monitoring your training sessions for many months now, and I am pleased with what I’ve seen.”

A low rustle slipped through them—the faintest of fidgets. Z did not know how she could have watched them without their knowing. Maybe their training sessions had been recorded.

“You are all aware,” the queen continued, “that you are among the soldiers being considered for a unique mission that will aid in the hostilities between Luna and Earth. This is a role of honor, reserved for those who have risen above the confines of their past, the limitations of their bodies, and the fear of the unknown. They will be my most prized soldiers, chosen not only for their strength and bravery, but also for their intelligence, cunning, and adaptability. My court and I will be making our final selections soon.”

Her words were blurred in Z’s thoughts and he could think of nothing past a bead of sweat making its way down his temple and how his fingers were beginning to twitch with too much energy and no outlet.

The queen, who had been as still as the soldiers until now, a faceless sheet speaking to them, lifted one arm and gestured to the thaumaturges. “I’m sure that I do not need to remind your thaumaturges that those who are in control of the selected packs will receive instant advancement in their court status.”

Z dared a glance at Jael and saw that his dark eyes had gone fierce, his jaw set.

“Gentlemen.”

Z snapped his gaze back to the wall.

“Your thaumaturges have asked for the opportunity to showcase some of their brightest soldiers. I look forward to the demonstration.” She swirled her fingers through the air and the thaumaturges spread out into the crowd.

Jael’s walk was tense as he reached them. “Alpha Brock,” he snapped, “you will be fighting. No teeth, no claws—I want to show your skill.  Understood?”

Brock fisted his hand against his chest. “Yes, Master Jael. Who will be my opponent?”

Jael’s gaze swept to Beta Wynn. Though technically, all Betas had the same rank in the pack, everyone kept a mental record of wins and losses, of victories and failures, and everyone knew that Wynn wasn’t far behind Brock in his abilities.

But then Jael let out a slow breath. “Ze’ev.”

Z’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Master Jael, heat flooding his face. But Jael showed no humor or uncertainty, only a stern determination as he paced past the others and came to stand before him. Their gazes clashed, and it was with some shock that Z realized he was now taller than Master Jael too.

“She wants a show,” he said. “This time, don’t hold back.”

Z’s brow twitched, but he tried to remain neutral as he saluted his thaumaturge.

His thoughts were frenzied as they were marched into the largest training room. Her Majesty had been escorted onto a platform on one end and placed atop a throne so that she could watch the proceedings in comfort.

Fifty packs. Fifty fights.

Z’s stomach was roiling as they began. He couldn’t focus on the brawls. He was only seeing Jael’s dark eyes, hearing his words over and over again. This time, don’t hold back.