Rowan POV
Crown Prince Rowan Tao Nox, only son of Queen Aislinn Nox and King Kaiden Nox, Alpha pair of the Royal Pack Argentums Sanguinis, squinted at his father as they strolled towards the line of cars.
"I'm sure father. I can handle it." Rowan said gently trying to ease the tiny frown that marred his father's face.
"That isn't what I was saying Rowan, you know that. Your mother and myself both know that you can, I just want to make sure that you want to. You don't have to go; we can still send Richard-"
Rowan scoffed at his father's words causing the King to let out his own low chuckle, considering the words he had just suggested, "Yes, perhaps that isn't really an option."
Stopping beside one of the black immaculate SUV's lining the drive, where one of his father's warriors held the door open for the Prince, Rowan turned to his father. His hand raising to land on his shoulder, "I promise I'm fine, and besides I want to go. I want to help you and mum."
The King's eyes softened looking at his son, "You do help us Rowan, you have nothing to prove."
"I'll be fine father, just worry about mum and I'll be sure to keep in touch."
"Where are you headed to first?" The King asked.
Rowan handed the duffle slung over his shoulder to another wolf, to be loaded into the back, smiling at his father. Both knew he already knew the answer to his question, he had overseen every minute of planning for The Prince's expedition personally, still Rowan couldn't find it to be irritated by his father's blatant attempt to put off their farewell, he could still see the lingering doubt and fear in his father's eyes. "Hiems first."
The King nodded his head turning slightly, both hearing the echo of The queen's voice spilling from the open door to the sprawling Royal pack house in the Northern Tundra, the seat of the Silver throne for the last 24 years, light igniting in the Alpha King still even with just the sound of her voice.
"Go dad." Rowan said, nudging his chin to where his mother's voice was starting to raise.
The King nodded once, pulling Rowan into a quick but tight embrace a mumbled 'be safe' muttered quickly into his ear, then The King was turning, his long powerful strides carrying him back and up the steps to a now fuming Queen.
Rowan grinned at the sight of his father's retreating back, shaking his head he stared at his home, where he knew inside his mother was raising hell. Then he was climbing into the back of the Black SUV, the door closing with a sharp solid click behind him, the sound echoing around them as the others loading into the convoy of vehicles once he was inside and secure. Looking into the rearview mirror, Rowan nodded at the drivers questioning gaze. The engine roared to life under them, picking up speed as the line of vehicles began to make their way down the winding drive, the tundra of his homeland slowly giving way to the dense forests of the wild north beyond the heavily tinted windows.
Izzy POV
Terrified.
Cold.
Starving.
Afraid.
Confused.
Alone.
Just a few of the words that had taken on drastically different meanings for Madeline Isabell Rohner in the last three hours. Words that before seemed simple and one dimensional now became mind alerting all-encompassing things that overwhelmed her thoughts, redefined her perspective, and shattered her innocence.
Monsters were real.
The horrible creatures of stories and nightmares were not only alive but had her surrounded and captured.
She wanted to cry, to scream, to run. Do anything. But she couldn't. She was frozen.
Held still and captured by the penetrating gaze of the huge man looming above. He was like nothing she had ever encountered. She had met intimidating men and women, had had her share of run-ins with too eager hands, and rough crowds, but none of those could compare to what was looking at her now. He was massive. An air of danger and violence clinging to him like the cloud of cologne boys in high school seemed to think they needed to bath in. She could feel his strength, it was like a physical force field, a humming current emanating and radiating from his skin. And she knew, knew that if and when he wanted her dead, she would be; and there wasn't a goddamn thing she'd be able to do about it. His eyes were hard and cold, calculating, expressive (though the emotions they reflected made bile rise in her throat).
"What's your name girl?" The man asked.
His voice was deep, rumbling from his chest like the engine of a freight train. Izzy flinched from his gaze, shrinking from his words, his attention, wishing she was invisible or at the very least anywhere else but where she was. Shuffling backward, putting as much distance between herself and this man who had so easily controlled the monsters encircling her, as she could. What was he? This man that with a single word had been able to halt and control these beasts? Izzy tried to swallow, but fear sat like a ball in her throat, choking her. Her back hit something unmoving, halting her retreat, swinging her head, she screamed as she stared up into the face of one of the monsters who had chased her. Warm breath washed over her, carrying the scent of mint and coffee, while eyes of pure black stared unblinking, long curving canine's, while and shining like pearls in the night snapped millimeters from her face.
"Back off Scott, the Alpha wants her alive." The deep voice said, words that forced the monster back. Letting out a shuddering breath of relief Izzy let herself turn back, involuntarily needing to seek out the one who controlled these monsters, and apparently her life.
Rowan POV
The line of vehicles made their way up the paved stone drive, coming to a crunching stop before the main house. Glancing out the window, Rowan took in the familiar sight of the large ornate pack house, the immaculately tended yard, four-story brick building, filling him with foreboding. The Crown Prince had heard all the stories, grown up with the full depths of knowledge of the uprising; the war that was fought so brutally against his family, the slaughter of those that had come before him, and the sacrifices it had taken to win it back. He still remembered the day he finally understood what the marks scaring his mother's pale back meant. Remembered the pain filling his father's face when he had mustered the courage to ask about them.
Rowan trampled down on the flair of anger at the thoughts, reminding himself that it was different now, their world was different, and those responsible for some of the worst crimes against their kind had been dealt with, hunted down and killed for the roles they played in the slaughter of the Royal family and the Silverblood pack some forty years ago. Well almost all of them.
White hot rage erupted in Rowan, flowing swiftly until he was consumed within it, a low piercing growl rumbling from his chest, his eyes flashing dangerously. The wolves that sat in the front seats shifted uncomfortably, the outburst of anger and dominance rolling from him in thick waves and across the link to their wolves. Sensing their unease at his emotions and distress, Rowan pulled back on his anger, reigning it in and forcing it from his limbs, pulling it into himself into a tiny ball he could shove to the back of his mind, forcing calm into its place. When he was certain he was under control, he reached across the links inherited at his birth, offering the two and those in the other cars reassurance.
"Your Highness are you ready?" Austin inquired from the front seat. His hazel eyes flicking wearily from the rearview mirror to the pack house looming beyond the safety of the car doors.
Rowan scoffed, his own gaze travelling back to the sprawling, overly grand, and ornate house, "As I'll ever be Uncle."
Austin let out a soft chuckle at the Prince's words, trying to hide his own unhappiness at their current situation. "It's only a week. One week and then we are off to your Aunt's."
At Austin's grimace at the mention of his Aunt Ciera it was Rowan's turn to laugh. "Don't tell me she's still mad at you?"
"That women could hold a grudge after she was dead."
"It was like three years ago!" Rowan said, chuckling loudly at the expression of horror and fear on his Uncle and Father's Beta's face.
"Yeah you try telling her that!" Austin grumbled, shooting the Prince a look that said he was half serious in his suggestion.
Rowan threw his hands in the air in mock surrender, waving off even the hint of his Uncle's question. "No way! You think I want to get on her bad side? Remember I've seen firsthand what she can do!"
Austin twisted in his seat, turning to fully face the young prince, looking between the two it would seem only a handful of years and not over forty separated them. "But you're her favorite nephew, she'd listen to you if you tried to talk sense into her."
"I'm her only nephew Uncle, and it wouldn't matter anyway. Aunt Ciera doesn't listen to anyone."
Their conversation was cut off by knuckles wrapping against the window. Looking out Rowan saw that the doors of the pack house had been thrown open, allowing those inside to spill forth, filling the stone paved stairs with a crowd of half-eager-half-resentful wolves. Letting out a small sigh Rowan's gaze picked out the faces of the Alpha, Beta, Gamma and a few other key pack members and their families gathered amongst those come to welcome the Royal envoy.
Reaching across the link Rowan nudged at his Guardians mind, indicating that he was ready to be presented. Rowan hated the elaborateness and ceremony of it all, but his father insisted. And when the King insisted, you followed; no matter if you were his son, heir, or however unnecessary and ridiculously pompous it was.
With a soft click the door was opened, humid air heavy with the scents of unknown wolves and forest flooding in and assaulting their senses. Rowan steeled his face, straightening his spine; he was no longer a son, a friend, or nephew, he was now the Crown Prince.
"May I present Your Royal Highness Crown Prince Rowan Nox of Pack Argentum Sanguinis. My prince, may I introduce you to Pack Hiems; Pack of the Last Defender." Noah's voice was low and level, cool and seemingly devoid of any and all emotion, it was only if you knew him as well as Rowan and his companions did, you could detect the hint of distaste and the bite hiding beneath his polite words.
Izzy POV
She had lost track of the days. In the beginning she had tried to keep track, tried to remember what time it was, whether it was day or night, she had tried to remember what day it was, what month. That was in the beginning.
They weren't that terrible, for monsters, she supposed, looking around the concrete cell that had become her entire universe. She knew ever crack and dip of the walls, every bump and ridge of the cold, wet floor. She knew every lump, coil, stain, and rip of what apparently passed for a bed in this hell. And she knew the door. Good God did she know the door. When she had still been keeping track of such things, she had spent a full three days, or what passed for days in here, on examining the lock. Five more on the hinges, the bars, the screws, bolts, the latch, all of it. She ran her fingers over it until they bleed. Pulled, banged, pounded and kicked until she had collapsed. She hadn't even left a scratch.
They fed her. She didn't understand why, they wouldn't talk to her, never answered her shouted questions or demands. Just twice a day a tray of food was slid into her cell.
She lost count of how long ago she had given up. Had stopped banging on the door, stopped scratching at the cement, counting the days, screaming at the monsters who fed her. Gave up on trying to do anything but stare at the ceiling and remember everything that had been stolen.
She missed her family. Lying on the hard thin mattress it was their faces that filled her mind. It was weird that now, when she was facing whatever horrible end with these things, it was them that brought her comfort and peace.
She missed the sun, the feel of a warm breeze on her skin.
Turning on her side she faced the cold blank grey of the cell wall, closing her eyes as she heard the tray slid into the cell.