Darkness

AURELIA

A potent, intoxicating scent filled her senses as she stirred from sleep.

She found herself looking at the drowsy face of her mate. She noticed a few more lines of worry etched into his face, only adding to his rugged charm. Her fingers traced them lightly.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled, grabbing her hand and squeezing. His cool honey-colored eyes met hers. She winced at his tight grip, and he let her go.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, my king,” she murmured.

“Hmm...” he responded, getting up and covering his naked body.

She barely noticed his nudity. It was becoming her new normal. It should have scared her, but her content heart was blocking it out.

“You need to walk around the castle today. Do whatever you want. Everyone needs to know you’re back with me.”

She nodded, and he left.

Kenna came in soon after to attend to her queen. She was glad Aurelia had returned safely, as they were friendly.

Aurelia sat at the vanity, her golden wispy hair brushed into neat braids. Some strands were left to fall down her back and shoulders.

Without her help, the fae couldn’t move forward. Everything would stay the same. This would be her life. Could she be happy with that? Could she see a brighter future?

No bloodshed. No pain. Living separate lives.

Maybe she could see a world like that. Maybe she could see a future with the king as her path was now. If only she wasn’t fae.

Because when he found out—and it was a “when”—her whole life would be thrown into chaos. She didn’t have enough faith in the king.

She could thrive if the fae were welcome again. She had to fix it, change the kingdom, unite the two worlds. It was necessary. It was the only way.

As instructed, she roamed the castle freely, no longer confined by the king. She greeted the servants, who were surprised to see her.

She longed for a friend. Kenna was the closest she had, but she had many other duties.

Loneliness had haunted her throughout her short life. Even in the heart of the werewolf kingdom, she had been alone.

She glanced out the window and saw the warrior wolves training as they usually did at dawn. The king sometimes joined them. But he had more pressing matters to handle.

“My queen,” Vidarr greeted, his eyes piercing hers. “I’m glad to see you’re back safe.”

“Shouldn’t you be outside with your troops?” she replied casually.

“I saw you watching,” he answered with a small smirk. “Your time with the fae, the enemy, did it change you?”

“Change me?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, bitter about the accusation.

How could he think she could be so easily swayed? She had been allied with the fae for much longer. “My loyalty is to the crown.” Her crown.

“Of course. You met Cathan. The king’s sworn enemy.”

“Yes, so it seemed. He wouldn’t stop complaining about the king.” He chuckled at her comment and gestured for them to walk.

“The king was upset. No one dared go near him,” Vidarr remarked, casually glancing at her to gauge her reaction.

“The king has a temper. That’s not news to me. Maybe you could tell me the castle gossip from the past few days.”

Of all the wolves, Vidarr was the most polite. He tried to be courteous, despite the king’s attitude.

Vidarr gave her a polite smile before answering. “No gossip. Your kidnapping was all anyone talked about.”

“I’m sure they all have interesting opinions.”

“None you’d want to hear, my queen,” he replied. She scoffed, but nodded anyway. She knew what they thought of her.

But she knew they were wrong. So it didn’t matter what idle rumor was.

“You’ve been the general for a while now. The king has had plenty of betas and gammas and even generals. How are you chosen? The king doesn’t trust easily.”

“He doesn’t, indeed. Which is why he doesn’t trust us either. He gives the title to the next high-ranking wolf.”

“You’re his advisors though. He must trust your advice,” she stated.

“He listens to our advice. The final decision is his. He’ll do whatever he wants. As you should have learned by now,” he teased.

“Don’t worry, I have,” she replied sweetly.

“When I told you to roam the castle, I didn’t mean flirt with my general,” the king roared as he stormed down the hall toward us.

Vidarr excused himself as if he had nothing to do with the king’s anger. She was surrounded by men, yet the king hated her talking to any of them.

“I’m sorry, my king. I was just—” He cut her off by gripping her jaw and stopping her from speaking. She winced as his fingers dug into her cheeks.

“It seems you have all the excuses in the world, Aurelia. You’ve given me quite a few. I wonder when you’ll run out and start repeating them,” he hissed in her face.

“Maybe they’re not excuses,” she retorted quietly. “Maybe you could believe that I was doing what I said I was doing.”

His expression softened slightly as his eyes studied her face.

Her eyebrows were furrowed, her eyes filling with tears and dark circles under them from the stress of the past few days. Her full lips were pouting, begging to be kissed.

He couldn’t resist. And he didn’t need to.

Crashing his lips onto hers, she instantly moaned at his sudden move. They backed into the nearest room, her back against the door once they entered and her thighs wrapped around his hips.

“I don’t tolerate disobedient little girls,” he growled against her lips before kissing her jaw and moving to suck on her neck.

His tongue brushed over his mark, sending a wave of pleasure through her body.

Her gown was shredded, the undergarment beneath it torn to pieces. His hand traced a path over her breasts, spilling from the confines of the corset she’d been squeezed into. He growled at it, ripping it apart as well.

His roughness only fueled her desire.

He pressed his hips against her bare, wet sex, a grunt escaping his lips. His mouth found her breast, biting her hard and without mercy, leaving a trail of dark red marks across her chest.

Her mind fogged over, as it always did when he was near. She was drowning in desire.

His fingers danced over her clit, pressing lightly, teasing her. It was a dance of torment. Then... he stopped.

A wicked grin spread across his devilishly handsome face. Lifting her higher, he roughly positioned her thighs on his shoulders, burying his face in her soaked sex.

A loud whimper escaped her lips. Her body was contorted in the most peculiar position, pressed against the door, her head nearly touching the ceiling as she perched on his shoulders.

The towering six-foot-six beast had hoisted her up to dizzying heights. She might have been afraid of the height if not for the pleasure he was giving her.

His hot tongue probed her sensitive spot, showing no mercy as she had come to expect from him. This was his form of punishment. He was tempting her.

He licked her clean, applying just enough pressure to bring her to the edge. But he didn’t let her reach climax. He continued his torment, prolonging the aching knot of desire within her.

A welcome distraction came in the form of the bells ringing. It was the signal of an attack.

The king gave his queen one last lustful look, his eyes raking over her body, before ordering her to stay put, cover herself, and wait for him.

He rushed out, a king ready to command his army to quell whatever rebellion had sparked.

For the most part, the kingdom’s people were either content or too afraid of the crown to rebel. This was a rare occurrence and couldn’t be taken lightly.

The king would need to handle it swiftly to maintain his absolute authority.

Aurelia hadn’t even realized where she was, knowing she could have ended up in someone else’s chambers. But she found herself in the armory and grabbed some chain mail to cover herself.

It swallowed her, but her dress had been completely destroyed; it was unseemly for a queen to wander the castle in such a state. She was chastised for even speaking to a man, let alone wearing something provocative.

Ignoring the king’s orders out of curiosity, she left the armory to find out why the bells were ringing. She stood on the battlements, hiding herself and peeking through the gaps.

Archers were there too, but not on her side. A large pack of rogue wolves clawed at the gates, like rabid animals. It reminded her of another wolf’s change in behavior.

But she couldn’t quite remember that incident.

Wolves could become ferocious, uncontrollable beasts. No one knew why. But it could happen. A group this size could potentially breach the castle walls and attempt a coup.

The warrior wolves cut through the crowd of wild animals, arrows piercing the enemies’ fur but doing little to truly stop them. The ground was painted crimson, splattered on thick wolf coats.

It was a bloodbath.

She knew they were a threat to her, the fae, and her mate. They didn’t fit into the plans.

She reached out to Ella, telling her what was happening.

“You need to stop it before the king fights. If he’s seen doing so, the people will think his army is weak, that he is weak. We can’t have that. Everything has to go according to plan,” she explained.

“But there are so many,” Aurelia protested. There were more than the people in the incident. So many more minds. She couldn’t do that. How could she suggest such a thing?

“You can do this, Aurelia. I believe in you. Be brave, young wolf,” she encouraged.

Aurelia’s mind snapped back to her body and she stood. She compelled the archers on the left side of the battlements to forget she was ever there, then she focused on her real targets.

Her heart pounded as if it might be her last moment alive. Fear had gripped her heart that day of the incident, and remnants of it lingered now. What she had done. How she had behaved.

How she had lost control.

Her mind was the one thing she knew she owned in the world. It was hers. Yet, that day, the power had taken over her. And the power was brutal, merciless, vengeful. But it was also cunning.

All doubt fled her mind when she saw the king heading toward the gate, armed and ready to tear apart some wolves. This wasn’t target practice. His handling of this situation would reflect on him, his image.

The attacking wolves froze in their tracks, as if the mere sight of the king was enough to stop them. But it wasn’t. It was Aurelia, his queen.

Power flowed from her like an invisible force field, radiating the energy it took to control a pack of wolves. It lifted her so high.

Even though her feet were on solid ground, she imagined this was what flying felt like. Ecstasy filled her heart from the control.

Suddenly, it retreated back into her, crushing her will as if it never existed. And replaced it with its own.

She was pushed back into herself. The light was shriveled up into a ball and thrown deep into the dark abyss so she couldn’t find her way out.

The wolves were statues ready for slaughter. The king watched with a smug expression as his warrior wolves tore the rebels apart. As if he had done anything.

Unbeknownst to Aurelia, the control over her power that she had been slowly losing was now completely gone.

Now she was the darkest part of herself. The most cunning, the most evil, the most merciless. But most of all, she was smarter.