The Wolf Queen (The Queen's Slave, Book 2)

Thirteen: Lamentation

"I thought you were different." He snarled. "Turns out you're no better than the rest of them." I was still in shock when movement suddenly exploded from the side of me, her form a blur as she headed straight for her brother. I cried out when she collided with his body, slamming him into the floor, the wet smack of her fists hitting his face and the breaking of his bones sickened my stomach. Her mind was a fortress that I couldn't enter, that alien awareness left me feeling cold and dark. Heightened by fear and overwhelmed, my mind flashed to the night I was whipped, my back tingling at the memory of my skin splitting open like warm butter.

The scent of blood and violence had my wolf bursting free of its cage, flooding my mind with a tidal wave of instinct, threatening to erase everything human. I shrieked in pain as my bones began to stretch and break. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to fight the change, even as wave after wave of agony slid through my veins like hot tar. I panicked as the world flashed black and white, my vision failing. Camille suddenly appeared in front of me, her fingers grasping tightly to my forearms. Her bright eyes commanded my attention, blocking out the noise of the brutal fight taking place behind her.

"Breathe." She instructed. "You cannot lose yourself, not now. You are the only one that can bring her back, Azalea. I need you to breathe." I was sure she could see the immense agony in my eyes, but I did as she asked and tried to breathe through it all. My eyes squeezed shut and I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached, pleading with my wolf. My skin shuddered when she finally receded into the depths of my mind, leaving my body aching and spent. My heart pounded loud in my ears as I broke free of Camille's gasp and backed away, unable to take the wrongness of her skin on mine any longer. A crippling sense of despair came over me as I opened my eyes and looked into her azure-ringed grey ones, the sudden silence of the room deafening. I glanced around warily, wrapping my arms around my middle, my hand covering my mouth as I finally understood the carnage spread from one end of the room to the other.

Elijah lay unconscious, his face a mess of blood and bruises, both eyes already swelling shut. Dark red blood was everywhere. The walls, the couches, the ceiling. My throat clenched shut at the sight of Elizabeth standing beside him, still as a statue. Her hands were covered in blood, her breath hissing through lethal fangs and those black eyes tracking my every move. Her awareness sharpened suddenly, the walls of her mind lowering to release a flood of shame and regret. "Azalea." I flinched when she spoke, her voice a faint whisper. I shook my head, holding up my hand.

"Don't." I clenched my jaw, my eyes shooting daggers at the three of them, even if one person was unconscious and unable to see it. "Don't look at me as though you expect to see disgust or fear. You know me better that. Elijah made his choice and paid for it. What's done is done. However, we have only wasted time when we could've been strategizing a way out of the mess we seem to have dug ourselves in. And for that, I am disappointed. I am not the same woman that fled from the palace and I never will be. I am a scarred and broken mess of a wolf who will one day be a queen to her pack, and that terrifies me. My mate is a vampire, my rival in every way, and yet there is a prophecy that speaks of the unimaginable power we will one day wield together. Nothing about this is easy. Nothing about it is clear. But it is our life now. This is war, and it is bloody and merciless. We can choose to accept it and fight for what is right, or we can tear each other down and save your mother the trouble of killing us by just killing ourselves."

My eyes skewered my mate's and then Camille's as my voice rang through the room, a look of intense and yet unreadable emotion burning within the depths of her eyes. I felt so tired then, the events of the evening and my triggered emotional state caused my body to sway. I could feel Elizabeth's gentle prodding within my mind and carefully pushed her out, avoiding her gaze as I scrubbed a hand down my face and blew out a low breath, the last of my words leaving my mouth in a barely audible whisper. "I have chosen my path. Perhaps it is time you do the same."

My heart thudded loudly in my ears as I shut the bedroom door softly behind me, my hands cupping my mouth as a torrent of grief and rage suddenly seized my chest. I slid to the ground, sobs catching in my throat. I mourned the girl I used to be, the girl that had been so fearless. The girl that my father would've been proud of. In this moment, I didn't feel like an heir. I felt lost and defeated. My mind whirled around the horror and agony on Elizabeth's face as she raised the whip, the sharp snap echoing in my ears. I didn't know what to do or how to fight this war we were in, much less the war inside my mind. I was terrified to leave Elizabeth, and for her to leave me. I knew it was inevitable but I wasn't sure that I'd survive it or if I was strong enough to even try. A shiver slid down my spine at the dark turn my thoughts had taken. If I didn't survive this war, then no one would. My mind flashed with a vision of Elizabeth in all her demonic glory tearing through thousands of miles of forestry, mad with grief and forever lost to her monster, the blood of a thousand souls on her hands.

No.

Not surviving would never be an option.

What do you think Azalea means to convey with her vision? I will be interested in hearing your thoughts! Enjoy this chapter and don't forget to drop a vote! 😊