The walk to the Southern Court was strange to say the least, but I'd learnt a few things along the way. Apparently, there were four territories in the forest, each located and named after a cardinal point.
"So, are the courts themselves also named after the cardinal point?" I asked through jagged breaths. Turns out, without the burn of adrenalin pulsing through my blood, it was much harder to move through the pain. Azriel had informed me it was normal to be in pain after the first Turn, and the same would go for my next few Turns. I was tempted to tell him that I never planned on putting myself through that agony ever again but bit my tongue instead.
"Quite right, dear."
I raised my brows. "Creative."
A small smile tugged on Azriel's mouth. "We are not the most imaginative of creatures, I will give you that. In fact, we steal many creative devices from the human world. Artworks, for instance."
I whipped my head to him, eyes wide. "You steal?" I stared at him. The male walked with hands tucked behind his back, his chin held high even in the middle of a forest. I couldn't imagine someone so dignified going so low as to steal. "But why? And how weren't you caught?"
Azriel's eyes slid to mine, something wicked gleaming within them. "As I said, Kyra, we are many things. What we lack in creativity, we also lack in honesty. What we lack in both we make up for in deceit. It's a balancing act. I suppose we are not much different from humans in this regard."
I shook my head. Dirty, cheating, lying wolves, and I was about to live in a court full of them. What had I gotten myself into?
"But do not be mistaken, dear. We do not steal for the sake of stealing. Many times, we do it out of necessity. In fact, the entire court you will see soon was built entirely from materials salvaged from the human world, resources we could never hope to find in a forest like this. Without it, we would be nothing." He shrugged. "And please, do not believe we leave the humans uncompensated. For everything we steal, we give back in small quantities."
I frowned. "So, when you steal a mansion's worth of metal, you pay them back with... what... a bag of precious stones?"
Azriel's smile turned wry. "One gemstone, dear. We are not that generous, I'm afraid."
I shook my head, bemused.
"We also need the materials to repair the court. Quite often, now, unfortunately."
I turned to him, all humor gone from his face. His lips were drawn into a grim line. "What do you mean?"
His throat bobbed. "We... The Southern Court has suffered recently. War is rampant across all four territories, but we seem to be the prime target."
My body went cold. Azriel's eyes didn't glimmer anymore. They were staring at an unfixed point in the undergrowth, distracted. "We suffer many attacks, and recently, it's been getting worse. It has been getting harder and harder to keep up, and at this rate, the territory will fall."
I kept my eyes to the ground. Despite having been ripped out of my own life and everything I've ever known, I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to say something, but I had nothing to give. After all, who was I?
To my surprise, however, Azriel turned to me. The hairs of my neck rose under his scrutiny, and I found myself suddenly conscious of how I walked.
"Kyra, my dear, you possess great power. A devastating power, one that could put mine to shame." I was about to tell him I possessed nothing that could put any aspect of him to shame, when he said, "Kyra... you have the power to save this territory."
I stopped, whirling on him. "What?"
His mouth was a grim line. "I didn't go into much detail before, I apologize. You are a miracle of stars, Kyra. Just by being a human to survive a werewolf transformation, you now possess a power that is rivalled by no other. Mastering this power will open up many doors, my dear."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. What kind of power could I possess that would rival his, let alone anyone's? I considered denying his claims outright, but the sincere look in his eyes stopped me from saying anything. Instead, I blew out a long breath.
"I think you're mistaken, Azriel. No disrespect to you, but I just don't think someone like me could have a power like that. I can barely comprehend the fact that werewolves exist, so the thought of me possessing some crazy magic is still beyond me." I paused, brows furrowing. "And if you're asking me to be part of this war, I'm going to have to reject you as kindly as possible. I'm not built for that kind of stuff. Sorry."
My words were met with silence. Azriel looked conflicted, as though fighting the urge to say something else. After what felt like an eternity, he gave me a solemn nod. "Forgive me, dear. I got ahead of myself here. You by all means do not have to participate in battle."
I could tell those words pained him to say, but I nodded. I suppose for him, in a world of violence and devastation, people were always jumping at the opportunity to fight. He wasn't used to someone declining an offer like this.
And more than that, what was this power Azriel referred to, and why would I of all people have it? And to the extent of saving a werewolf territory? It was simply unbelievable!
We travelled on in silence, and I found myself suddenly interested in the lichen on the trees or the wild flowers on the ground. I looked anywhere but Azriel. I didn't know why, though. If he sensed the tension, the ease at which he walked certainly didn't show it.
It wasn't long before the trees thinned out. My ears picked up distant sounds that resembled the bustle and movement of a mall. By the time we stepped past the final trees and made foot onto the grassy expanse of the court grounds, I felt sick with nerves.
The first thing I saw were the wolves. Wolves. The words sent a shock through me, almost as much as the sight of the hulking beasts themselves.
My heart hammered in my throat, and I found myself slowing to a stop. They strode alongside people in coloured cloaks, chattering like friends going about their daily business, as though nothing were out of the ordinary. The beasts' eyes glinted an array of unnatural colours, colours that sent sharp spikes of panic through me as they flashed in the sunlight. And with my tattered clothes and small frame, it occurred to me then–
I was vulnerable.
I didn't have that muted animalistic grace they carried themselves with, nor did I have the strength that seemed to ripple along their muscles. I was frail and scrawny; pale as though I hadn't seen the sun in days. They all seemed to holster this strange radiance, and it had nothing to do with the perfect beauty of their faces.
They were born into this. For me, it hadn't even been a day. And, looking at them now, it seemed impossible that I could one of them.
I swallowed. I needed to find a cure. Fast.
"Kyra?" Azriel asked, noticing I'd stopped. I found it a great effort to rip my wide eyes from the beasts and focus on him. I saw again those unnatural shades of blue, ones that sent thrills of panic through me. Azriel was one of them. I seemed to keep forgetting that.
Sensing my distress, he stepped forward, offering an arm. "Come, dear," he whispered. His lips lifted into a small smile. "They will not bite you so long as you're with me."
I knew he meant it as a joke, but his words unnerved me all the same. In a move that was too stiff to be considered casual, I grasped his arm and forced myself in step beside him. My heart hammered like a mallet as we strolled, eyes snagging to us like iron to a magnet. Cold sweat broke out on my neck as a few of their eyes turned cold, fixing me with unfriendly glares.
I swallowed. I wanted nothing more than to sink into the earth below my feet, but Azriel's arm kept me steadfast. I noted how, when Azriel looked their way, any coldness on their faces diminished in an instant. They bowed their heads instead, and I was reminded again just who I was with. I wasn't just with Azriel. I was with the King of Wolves.
And I had spent the best of the hour mouthing off to him.
Fantastic.
I was trying to keep my breathing steady when a grey monument loomed before us. When my eyes focused, every bit of apprehension dissipated.
It looked like something ripped out of a fairy tale, like one of the castles I'd seen in my old picture books. I'd always imagined werewolves to live in run-down ruins or decrepit dens. Not something this grand.
Its cobble-worked walls climbed stories high, various large-paned windows reflecting the amber light of the sun. The black tiles of the roof glinted onyx in the sunlight, a shimmering contrast to the slate-grey walls. One single tower climbed high above the rest, its black spire cresting high into the sky.
As we drew closer, my eyes noticed the finer details. Among the walls were various gashes and dents, as though great beasts had cleaved the stone with their claws. The iron-wrought gates before me, ones that held the entrance to a gleaming courtyard, were bent and battered in places. As we passed the gates, my eyes snapped to a marble monument, or what had once been. A white pedestal stood gleaming in the centre, though whatever had stood upon it was torn away, leaving only two jagged stumps. Upon the sun-baked path that had been carved out, I could see pieces of white chips glinting, and that's when I realized the statue must have been destroyed.
I swallowed. So when Azriel had said the territory was under attack, he'd meant it.
I decided it was all the more reason to find a cure. Soon.
I tried to keep my breaths even as we passed by several guards, their eyes like cold steel. Before long we were ascending a marble staircase, of which also had many fissures and chips. Before us, two grand oak doors had been pulled wide, showing off an anterior my brain couldn't begin to process.
"Enjoying the view?" Azriel asked, noticing my staring. I nodded dumbly, like a child who'd just been presented with a bag of candy. Azriel returned his gaze ahead, but I could have sworn the ghost of a smile pulled at his lips. Without another word, we went inside.
White marble lined the floors, gold veins gleaming within the glossy expanse. Crystal chandeliers hung low above our heads, painting the room amber. Violets and golds and greens patterned the walls, adding colour to the world of gold and white. Accent tables with various jewelled trinkets were everywhere. People and wolves milled by, still shooting me with their strange looks, but I was too taken away by what I saw to notice.
We continued on. We passed various corridors and halls that stemmed off from the main space, all lit up with their own sense of adventure. When we came upon two sets of staircases, set at opposite ends and leading to a landing that overlooked the grand space, I hesitated. Between them, a large arch stood, leading to what looked like a courtyard.
Slowly, Azriel guided me up one of the stairs. Once on the landing, he steered us to the left down a long hall, stopping outside one of the many doors. Then, he pushed it open.
My eyes took a moment to adjust. Everything was lavish. Pristine white walls patterned with purple fleurs framed the expanse. The wooden floorboards were polished to the point where I could see my own dishevelled reflection in them. A circular rug of whitest fur sat in the centre, two red-velvet chairs set on either side.
My eyes roamed further. Against the back wall sat a golden-framed bed, the gossamer curtains flitting like sheets of water in the gentle breeze. To the left stood a grand white door, one which could only lead to an ensuite.
It took a moment to remember where I was. More specifically, who I was with. I was quick to stride to the centre of the room and whirl around, my hand caressing the hilt of Silvershade as Azriel closed the door. I tried to ignore the cold sweat carving rivers down my back, or the sudden nausea in my gut. My heart continued to hammer, and I didn't know if that was due to the beasts that roamed these halls or the man before me.
His eyes held mine for a few brief moments, before darting to where my hand rested upon the hilt. I pulled my hand away in a gesture too quick to be considered casual and gave him my biggest grin, though I was sure it looked more like a grimace. I resisted the dizzying urge to place my hand back on the blade, especially when Azriel took a step forward.
"I know my features are hard to ignore, dear, but if you would take your eyes off me for just one moment, you will see a gift waiting on your bed behind you."
I fought my rising blush and whirled around, again cursing myself for turning my back on a werewolf. But what I saw on the bed diminished those thoughts completely.
A material of glimmering blue had been laid upon the dark sheets, its silver embroidery shining in the sunlight. A strange symbol emblazoned the back, one that nagged at a memory from math class, but nothing I could clearly recall. The blues and silver virtually glowed, and the black collar at the top told me this was some form of cloak.
"What is it?" I asked then, remembering what he said, whirled on him. "And what do you mean by 'your bed'?"
Part of me wasn't ready to believe it, but his small grin told me otherwise. "This is your bed now, Kyra-dear. In fact, this entire room is your new residence." He paused. "Of course, if you do not like this room, we can always choose another one. However, I would implore that you consider--"
"No," I said, silencing him. Stunned by my abrupt answer, I shook my head. "I mean, no – it's perfect. I love it. But... I just can't believe it's mine." I paused, choking on my gratitude. "When you said I could live here, I didn't think you meant in a room like this."
He tucked his hands behind his back. "Do not be so shocked, dear. As part of the court, you shall be treated as such. Every resident has a room like yours. Well, almost." His gaze drifted to a golden latch on the door. "I had a lock installed in this one, specifically for you. Not that anyone would intrude, but I can imagine the reassurance it will bring."
My eyes welled, and I suddenly felt terrible mistrusting him at all. He was doing all of this for me – someone who was virtually a stranger – yet not moments ago I had been prepared to strike him down with his own dagger.
I swallowed. Maybe I was the monster here.
He nodded again toward the bed. "As for the other question, that lovely piece of fabric there is your Pelta. Though its main feature is to denote your rank, it is also helpful for covering oneself after a shift."
He paused, and it took me a moment to realize what he meant. My cheeks flamed. "You saw me naked?"
He smirked. "Me? No, not at all, dear. It is not in my interest to leer at unconscious girls. When Zion brought you here, he'd covered you up with a spare Pelta." He paused. "However, I cannot say if Zion holds the same ideals. I wouldn't pin him as a pervert, but he's not exactly a saint, either."
I wanted nothing more than to bury my face in my hands. How embarrassing.
"That being said, the fabric's colour denotes one's rank, whilst the colour of the embroidery showcases any speciality. As a Theta, however, I am afraid there is not much variation in that regard."
I frowned towards the symbol on the back. Yes, the Greek letter. I remembered now. But why did that matter here?
"Theta?"
He hesitated. Seeming to decide on something, he beckoned me forward. "Come, Kyra. Sit. There is something important we must discuss."
After a moment of hesitation, I nodded and sat in one of the crimson-velvet seats. He settled himself into the opposite one, crossing one leg over the other, the picture of ease.
"Kyra, you will find that no matter what territory you find yourself in, there will always be ranks. Omegas are the lowest, with Thetas being in second. Above that, you will get the ranks that are usually part of the Alpha's council – Gammas, Betas, Zetas, and, if the Alpha has a wife, Luna.
"Each of these ranks has a part to play in this world. Omegas make up most of the population, and hence complete day-to-day tasks. Gammas are advisors to the Alpha. Then there's the right-hand – the Beta – and the left-hand strategist, known as the Zeta. A Luna, as you may have guessed, is on the same level as an Alpha, and just as much a leader. In many cases, there is no ruling Alpha, but a Luna instead."
I swallowed, my palms slick with sweat. "And what about Thetas?"
He sucked in a sharp breath. "Thetas are soldiers. They are the warriors that protect this country, and they are trained extensively to do so. It is an honour to be elevated to a Theta."
I stilled. I recalled what Azriel had said about me possessing great power. And the blue Pelta upon my bed...
He wanted me to fight.
"No," I said it so abruptly, even Azriel looked stricken. I shook my head. "Sorry, Azriel. You've done a lot for me, and I am more than grateful, but–"
My voice tapered off, and I found myself shaking. This was all happening too fast. I'd only become aware of werewolves' existence yesterday, and simply living among them terrified me – even now my heart hammered at the prospect of those who roamed outside. But to fight them? That was just a whole new level of insanity.
Azriel grimaced. "I know this is very forward, dear, but this is as much a benefit for you as it is for me. If we get overthrown by the other territories, it will not just be us who suffers. You will, too, and I know there are many territories that would love to use you in ways that I do not wish to discuss, for they are so vile."
Ice skittered down my spine. What could I possibly have that all the other territories pined for? And what would they do if they got a hold of me?
I swallowed. "What would they do, Azriel?"
He paused, hesitating. "Please, dear. It will only frighten you. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"Tell me. Please."
He looked as though he might decline. Instead, he sighed. "Alright. Kyra, as an Epsilon, you have great power. Your power is rare and only belongs to a certain branch of werewolves, and as such they are ranks of their own. Though you may become a Theta here, you will always be seen as an Epsilon, which is a category of its own, and for good reason.
"They would do terrible things for this power, Kyra. Terrible things. They may torture you into using your power, or turn you into a mindless slave who does their bidding. It would be a miserable existence."
It felt like he'd dunked me in ice water. "What?"
He nodded solemnly. "I am afraid that is just the way it is. Werewolves are greedy. Violent. Many do not have a moral compass."
I swallowed, keenly aware of my dagger. "And how do I know you won't do those things to me?"
To his credit, Azriel didn't get angry at my blatant accusation. Instead, he shrugged. "There is nothing I can offer other than a dagger and my word. You do not trust me yet Kyra, and for good reason, and I intend to show you that I am worthy of such trust. But Kyra, please believe me when I say this..."
He levelled his gaze with mine, and the room around us seemed to dim. In mere moments, I was lost in those breath-taking blues; enchanted.
"Kyra, I would never, ever harm you in such a way. I would never treat you less than one of us. You are a member of my court now, and as such, I vow to protect you from any shortcomings as I may for any of my other subjects."
I blinked at his words. It was hard to ignore the sincerity on his face, or the way his eyes gleamed with such openness, as though he were opening himself up and allowing me to peer into the deepest depths of his soul.
But more than anything, I knew he meant those words. I knew it without a doubt.
His eyes were questioning, and I knew what he was asking. I pushed a breath out of my nose. Of course, he wanted to know if I would be a Theta, knowing what I do now.
I thought about being locked in cold irons like the day I'd been taken here, except I was surrounded by people who were evil. People who actually wanted to hurt me. And then I imagined training with wolves, training to fight alongside them. It was scary, and perhaps even dangerous, but I would never want to lose my freedom in such a way. I had lost so much already.
"Alright," I agreed. Visible relief passed over his features. "Except, I ask that you do not put me on the front lines. I don't want to be a soldier... yet. I just want to learn how to defend myself."
Azriel considered for a moment and, seeming satisfied with my bargain, bowed his head. "As you wish, dear."
What I didn't tell him is that I would never be a soldier. By then, I would have found a cure. By then, I would be far away from this madness.
Azriel made to stand, and I followed suit.
"Anything else you wish to ask?"
I started, wondering how I'd forgotten. "The library – where is it?"
I tried to keep my words impassive, but Azriel's knowing smile told me he knew better. "Down the hall to the left, behind a set of oak doors. It's quite difficult to miss, so you will know when you see it. And though the library is expansive, I cannot guarantee it will contain the information you are looking for."
I ignored his remark and nodded. It had to have information on something that related to a cure. If not, then it would at least contain clues to one, right?
"Settle in, the Feasting starts soon," he said, stealing me from my thoughts. "I'll be sure to check in on you again afterwards. I'll have my Gammas assign you an escort. In the meantime, settle down, and prepare for your training. It begins tomorrow."
My eyes widened. "Tomorrow?"
Azriel shifted on his feet. "I am afraid so, my dear. I tried to bargain with Zion on letting you settle first, but he was insistent on training you as soon as possible. And, though I am the Alpha, Zion is the head trainer. Even I will not defy him in that sector."
I swallowed. "And what is a Feasting?"
Azriel strode towards the door, his hand on the knob. "I believe humans call it dinner."
Without another word, he let himself out and clicked the door shut, leaving me to stew in the silence. At some point, I wandered to the bed and sat down, allowing my hands to drift absent-mindedly over the satin covers.
Somehow, I got the feeling that this was only the beginning, and things were about to get much worse.