We have been liberated. But my job in this war had just begun. I worked tirelessly to find everyone severely wounded in order to heal them. By now it had appeared that I bathed in a pool of blood, both my own and other's.
The people from my house, and our allies, all cheered like this war was worth losing loved ones over. I couldn't hide the displeasure coursing through my body, making its way to cover my face.
As I finished healing the last person I could, I just laid myself down in the snow, both exhausted and angry. The coldness encapsulated my body, reminding me that I was still alive; and that others weren't. I gazed at the sky, wondering what will happen to us now.
We had won the war, but at what cost? More than half of my house needed to be buried into the ground because of this. Including our commander, my father.
You have the power to shape your own destiny, Aurelia. That's what he had told me with his last few breaths. I knew that was just a figure of speech though. My destiny has long been decided for me; to be the healer of Arvendon.
It wasn't a high ranking, I worked just as much as the servants of the house and just has hard as the serfs that tended the land. In all honesty, it was a glorified way of saying I was the most prized servant.
It did not matter that my father was commander of the house's warriors, coming from a high ranking himself. A healer is a healer no matter the nobility status of their parents. And, of course, the fact that healers can't shift into a wolf and lack strength thereof doesn't help. The only way for a healer's rank to raise is to have a mate of high nobility.
My gazing is disturbed by a tall figure blocking my view of the smoke infested sky.
"Are you alright?" Cree's voice was coarse.
"Define alright." I sit up while Cree offers me his hand as assistance off the ground. Once standing, I could see his features that were no longer shaded by the skylight behind him.
I read his handsome face, it was clear as fresh spring water. His stormy grey eyes held a threat of rain, wanting to cry with me, but his bloody lips twitched for a smile of victory.
"It has been years, but today it is finally over." Cree takes a deep breath in, his head falling back. He was soaking in the feeling of no longer having to fight for a cause other than survival.
"Some will never even know it is." I muster out, glancing down to my now red, rather than grey, dress.
Cree purses his lips together before they drop into a frown. He places his index finger just below my chin, raising my face to meet his. He uses his thumb to softly, and comfortingly, stroke my cherry lips, making them a clean slate from the tainted blood.
His blonde hair looked darker than usual with ashes coating his golden strands and his frame slouched slightly, worn out from the fighting.
Cree bends down, his face becoming nothing but a few inches from mine.
"Trust me, they know," He whispers with a faint smile.
Someone clears their throat next to us, causing Cree to drop his hand from me. We both back away from each other, our relations being a little too bold for not having exchanged hearts. We both glance over to the short, but brooding man we call our lord.
Lord Dion raises his brow at Cree and I. I often suspected Lord Dion knew of our fondness for one another, but he never mentioned it. I believe Lord Dion has a soft spot for me, always being easier on me than other high ranking wolves are. Perhaps it is why he did not mention Cree and I's relations.
Perhaps he was waiting for Cree to declare me as his mate to save us from embarrassment and spare me my ability to find my mate. If my mate isn't Cree and it is said that I had lost my virtue to him, I would be rejected by my mate instantly, despite never actually going as far as that with Cree.
Lord Dion used a piece of his shirt to wipe the stains off his palms as he spoke to us, "To celebrate our victory we will be going to a ball hosted by the King. Tonight we bask in glory." He pauses to look at me, and with a nod of his head continues. "Tomorrow we mourn our loss."
✧ ✧ ✧
I looked intently upon the sight. The castle was bold beyond the starry night sky, glistening in the moonlight. Every stone was even and square, as if those who built it were set on perfection.
They probably were, after all, these were walls made to protect the highest community of werewolves in the Kingdom of Lodestar. But these walls were not made to echo with laughter and be the shelter they needed. No.
These walls were made to keep the other three kingdoms out. These walls were even made to establish dominance over the houses within the north, telling the common wolves that we do not have the same safety and security as the King.
My father had always talked about this castle. Always wanting to be able to visit it one day, just as he did when he was a child. He never will be able to visit it again, and I knew now that this fort of stone was built on blood and bone, and that if it could talk, we would all beg for deafness. These walls are whispers of the ages, tales of lives lost and deaths of agony no one should ever feel.
I briefly examined Lord Dion as he gracefully made his way up the stone steps, my house members following close behind.
I sighed, my saddened breath visible even in the dark. I knew these walls had so much to say, but no ears willing to listen.
It was at times like this that I wished I was just a little servant girl that could stay in the confinement of Arvendon. Unluckily for me, wherever my lord went, I was always close by to ensure his survival.
At least tonight I was allowed to wear more extravagant attire, instead of in the servants charcoal grey dress. Lord Dion wanted me to appear up kept, clean and tidy. For once my hair was pulled up, instead of in a braid. Only a few loose strands found their way out of the pins, slightly tickling my skin now and again from the breeze.
Cree notices my eyes lingering on the castle. He joins my side, offering to walk with me, rather than with the men, so I wouldn't have to bare this night alone.
"I have something I need to talk to you about tonight." Cree whispers to me between his smiles and waves to people as we make our way inside the large black castle doors.
Before I have the chance to ask any questions, Lord Dion calls Cree to join him in conversation with another lord. Cree nods to our lord before turning to face me.
"I'll find you later." His smile was wide, with his eyes holding a glimmer of excitement. He turns quickly and walks to our lord with his head held high.
I stand there, taking in my surroundings, not entirely sure of what I should be doing. Being a healer did not give me any advantages for social events. I was to stay quiet, stay out of the way, not to make eye contact, and to stay close to my lord.
My head hung low, looking down to the almost reflective floor. I use my eyes to sheepishly glance around, just enough so that I could see, but no one would notice my wondering gaze.
From the corner of my eye, I notice some lords of our allies nodding at me in approval. I dare not to draw any attention, knowing that they would often wager a price to Lord Dion to buy me for their house if they did not have a healer since we are scarce to come by after the Era-dication.
I avoid their approving gaze as I glance over to my right, my head still hung low. This time I notice a girl with hair even darker than the moonless night. I could tell she was a noblewoman by the decorative dress and flashy jewelry she proudly flaunts. She scowls at me with a group of other noblewomen.
Some, of course, were disgusted by the pure sight of me because they had healers of their own that were considered better than I. I avoid her judgment by averting my eyes to my hands folded in front of me.
In doing so, I feel a presence join behind me. Their build was much larger than my own, making me feel incredibly inferior. They talk without me turning to face them.
"Not enjoying the ball, are we?" His voice was deep and rough.
I stay silent, not wanting to be punished for speaking out of line, but my thoughts rang loud in my head. Why have a ball when most that would have been invited can't even attend?
"Acknowledge when you are spoken to," He demands. His words were harsh, coming out of his mouth as if they tasted bitter on his tongue.
My hands dropped to my sides and I clench my fists. I let my nails dig into my skin, drawing some blood, in an effort to keep from breaking down. I turn my body towards the man.
"I am enjoying the ball, sir," I lie through my teeth.
"Look at me and say that," He demanded.
I don't dare raise my face to see him. It is uncommon for low ranks to look higher ranks in the eye. A sign of disrespect and the lack of submission. Was it a trick to have a reason for punishment? That didn't make sense though. Most do not need a reason to punish the low ranks.
I swallow hard, mustering the courage to raise my face.
His sharp cheekbones and black eyebrows gave him an unapproachable look, intimidating to say the least. Not even his long and somewhat feminine eyelashes made him appear soft. However, it was his icy blue eyes and unruly dark curls that sparked the memory of him saving the young boy and I on the battlefield.
The man before me was none other than King Thaddeus himself.
"I am, your majesty." I quickly drop my head in submission again, hoping and praying he isn't going to be angry with me.
It is said that the King is so ruthless, he once ripped a man's throat out just for lying about stealing an apple. An apple. Not even a bundle, just one was all it took. He is a harsher king than the other three, and that is a known fact.
"You shouldn't lie. Lying is a dangerous thing," he advised.
I say nothing to the King's statement, unable to come up with the right words to explain myself.
"And you are?" He urges at my silence.
"Aurelia Kingsley of House Dion. My father was commander of Arvendon," I admitted.
With my peripheral vision, I could see the King raise one of his thick eyebrows, as if that wasn't the answer he was anticipating.
With a slight nod of his head he responds, "Was?"
I didn't realize I had said that. The first time I spoke of my father in the past tense out loud today. It felt so surreal to talk of him in this manner when he was the one that woke me up this morning.
Not to get me to prepare for battle like I should have been, but instead to tell me stories of my mother. Just this morning he had told me how he knew my mother was his mate — how he knew their hearts were compatible.
He always said he knew when he realized that my mother made him feel like he was in summer during the dead of winter. And winter lasts years here in the North, often making us forget the warmth of grass.
I don't respond to King Thaddeus. Instead, I swallow hard and turn my side to him. I didn't stare at anything in particular. My eyes couldn't focus in on anything but my harsh reality.
"Well, Miss Kingsley," the King began, making me come back to earth. From the corner of my eye, I watch as he places his hands behind his back. He turns his body in order to soak in the festivities occurring around us. "How about a tour?" He asks.
I glance over to Cree, who is laughing and enjoying a drink with Lord Dion and a few others. The King starts to stride around me, but stops when he is standing in front of me. Just enough to block my view of my Lord and Cree.
The King looks over his shoulder, his eyes piercing into me as if he could see my soul, making me shuffle in the slightest bit. I could swear there is nothing behind those eyes of his. Nothing but utter emptiness.
"It wasn't an offer," he explains. His rose tinted lips stayed slightly pursed together while his attention locked down on me.
I bite my lip, glancing over to Cree from the side of the King. Cree and I's eyes meet. Cree's brows furrow together as I start following King Thaddeus, not knowing what awaits me.