CHAPTER 4: I AM A MAN, AM ALLOWED TO SHAKE A LITTLE...

The hours came in slowly toward midnight, as though the moon itself were holding its breath. Everybody waited in anticipation for this memorable night. Adrian was the happiest of them all, He was the only royal transforming that night. However many had transformed a year before him and others were to transform the next year. He was a golden boy, he shared his day with no one else.

Only one hour remained.

The Moon Hall stood at the northern wing of the palace, Bolivia’s most sacred architectural treasure. A huge domed structure built withwhite colored marble, its surface shone as if painted with powdered stars. The hall had no sharp corners: instead, every wall ended in soft curves. A wide circular podium was at the center, and directly above it, the dome opened into the sky like a giant eye staring straight into the heavens.

The opening was called The Celestial Tear. It was wide enough for the full blood moon to pour its light straight into the dome. At the hour of 12:00, the glass would be pushed aside to let in the moonlight shine directly onto the cage with the transforming candidate inside it.

The moonlight itself looked alive tonight.It shone onto the marble in a pale silver glow, making the entire hall feel like it was floating between worlds. Rows of seats curved around the central podium, rising in tiers like in the ancient Roman game theatres. The highest seats were occupied by the nobles, the middle tiers by the honored guests, and the lowest front row, the one closest to the podium, was reserved strictly for the royal family or in other cases it would be including the immediate family of the the one transforming.

At the center of the podium stood the transformation cage.

It was made from silver and strong steel, the cage was shaped like a perfect circle. The bars were thick, evenly spaced, and rooted deep into the stone floor. Even kings couldn’t open them by hand. Only the guards with special keys could. It was designed to contain any wolf, young, old, powerful, unpredictable, during the violent first shift. Since the first shift was always painful and violent, the cage served a great purpose to contain the wolves.

And tonight… it was Adrian Ravenhall’s turn.

The hall was filled with anticipation. Nobles whispered quietly in each other's ears. Ministers leaned forward with curiosity. Visitors murmured about bloodlines and power. Even guards stood taller, their armor shining from the moonlight falling onto their armors.

At the very front sat:

King Almond Reginald, dressed in deep blue robes designed with threads of silver moons.

Queen Eleanor, elegant and calm in flowing pale gold, her hair braided with small moon crystals.

Rudieloff was tense, upright and silent at his father's left. Even before the event began, he felt unusually uncomfortable. He kept shifting in his seat as if it burned his bottom. His eyes were fixated on the cage. He knew something was very wrong in today's transformation night.

Evelyn Ravenhall, Theodore,and Princess Julianna, sat in the next raw next to each other, whispering occasionally, eyes bright with excitement. They could not wait to tease Adrian after his night.

Lady Elizabeth Ravenhall was ​ nearly vibrating with pride. Her eyes were fixated on the cage impatiently waiting for Adrian to be led in. She kept looking at Reginald and Eleanor who returned her smile. She fanned herself rapidly.

"I swear this feels longer than giving birth to him," she whispered to the queen.

Queen Eleanor chuckled softly. “Transformation nights always feel like eternity. They put you on tension”

“I hope he will transform easily?” Elizabeth continued

“He’s strong and he prepared” Queen Eleanor said proudly. “He’ll do well. He has our blood.”

Rudieloff didn’t join the conversation. His jaw was tight. Now, his eyes were locked on the Celestial Tear above. Something about the night felt… wrong. Or maybe too right. He didn’t know yet.

The moon cast him in light, sharpening every edge of his face, high cheekbones, hardened jawline, the stillness of a man always listening, always alert of his soroundings.

Gwen Thornefield sat in the second raw opposite him. She was trying to her personal failure, to keep her eyes off him. But even she sensed the tension rolling off the his face. She whispered to her father who seemed to notice it too. Yes, he was always quiet but today he was not only quiet. It seemed like he was lost, or maybe he anticipated something that no one else did, or maybe he hated the event since he had failed at everything that comes with it like finding a mate.

Something was changing. And not just in Adrian. But Bolivia was about to experience a shift that would change it for ever.

The slave transformation ground was a whole different thing. Far from the polished seats of the Moon Hall, behind the servant quarters and training field, was the so called transformation arena.

Calling it "arena" was generous.

It was a bare and wide. A circular clearing, open to the sky, covered with hard-packed soil at the ground and enclosed by a towering fence of hard steel mesh. The fencing was built from iron mixed with silver dust. It was ugly and strong enough that even a newly transformed wolf couldn’t dent it.

Massive poles, each almost the size of a fully grown man, held the mesh deeply into the ground. At the top, spikes angled inward to prevent any climbing. No wolf had ever tried to escape. Those that tried ended up wounded. Even today, none was going to escape.

Where nobles were given seats, the family of those to transform were allowed to sit, or stand if they wanted, outside the cage to witness the transformation of their people. It was just a clearing, seats would be a luxury.

Where nobles were given transformation clothes, slaves were ordered to strip. Those to transform were ordered enter the cage naked. Herded into the cage with no covering.

Where nobles entered individually, slaves were herded in groups like livestock, family and not family alike by the guards who were assigned to oversee the slaves' transformation.

As the guards yelled, the slaves entered the cage trembling. They were bare, cold, and shaken. Shame and humiliation written all over their faces. It was one experience that each slave had to experience in their life time in the palace of Bolivia kingdom.

Girls covered their chests with trembling arms. Boys covered themselves clumsily, using both their hands covering their little monsters, faces burning with shame. Many cried. Some resisted. A few screamed as guards pushed them forward. There was no room for resisting or fighting, guards were harsh.

The ground was cold under their bare feet. The air was heavy with dread.

A girl fainted before entering. Her mother begged for mercy, only to be pushed aside. She was made to lay aside to create way for the rest.

Another child clutched her older brother’s leg, refusing to let go. The guards pulled them apart anyway, they never allowed such emotional attachments to slow their procedures.

And amid that chaos, humiliation and terror that reigned, tonight was the one night a year that slaves remembered what they really were in Bolivia. They were owned, controlled and caged.

Vivienne walked forward slowly, naked and shaking violently despite trying to appear composed. Her hands were wrapped around her chest. Covering her breasts. She didn't protest, or put up a fight of any kind. It was futile after all.

Her mother, S. Monera, spotted her through the bodies and rushed to her. They fell into each other’s arms. She sobbed and on her mother's shoulder.

“My daughter, Viv...,” Monera whispered, tears already wetting Vivienne’s collarbone. “Just breathe, breathe, Vivienne, my baby. You’ll be fine.”

Vivienne tried to nod, but her throat tightened. “I’m scared, Mama.”

Monera cupped her cheeks. “Fear doesn’t mean you’re weak, okay. It's just one hour. You are going to make it, I promise you. Trust me you are strong.”

Cecilia pushed her way through towards them. She hugged both of them. A guard parted them. Pushing Cecilia to the ground followed by Monera.

Guards kept pushing more and more slaves into the cage.Girls huddled together, arms crossed desperately over their breasts, trying to cover what could not be hidden. Boys clenched their fists, covering groins, faces red with shame and anger, mumering curses that were swallowed by the night. Some begged guards and some fought them.

Vivienne and the group started to move. She moved to the far edge, sitting with knees drawn to her chest. She sat leaning at the cage, her naked back meeting the cold steel mesh. She felt embarrassed

Outside, S. Monera pressed her hands against the mesh, tears shining in the moonlight and threatening to fall.

“Viv… breathe,” Monera whispered. “Remember who you are.”

Vivienne’s voice broke. “I… I’m scared, Mama.”

Monera, turned her head from Vivienne to hide her tears.

Cecilia whispered, holding the mesh tightly, “I wish I could stay with you. Gods… you look like you want to faint.”

"Come on Ceci, don't make it worse than it already is." She forced a smile.

Vivienne looked around. Most of those inside and outside the cage stared at her pale whitish skin. She swallowed, heat rising to her cheeks.

“I… I feel so… vulnerable.”

“That’s okay,” Cecilia said gently, brushing a strand of hair from her own face. “But remember you are strong. That is enough.”

" You are beginning to sound like mum."

The commotion shifted when Oliver ​walked in. Every girl noticed him. They always did.

Even a slave and humbled like the rest, Oliver carried himself differently, like a man already aware of his own worth. His body was tall and almost lean but strong, muscles defined yet he was not bulky. His skin was a warm golden-brown, smooth and unscarred, rare for a slave. His jawline was sharp, his cheekbones high, his lips beautifully curved and expressive. His hair dark brown, thick, and curly, fell right above his brows, giving him a boyish charm.

And his eyes...God, his eyes. Golden-hazel with flecks that glowed strangely in the moonlight.

He spotted Vivienne instantly. The moment his gaze touched her, everything inside him softened. He walked toward her and crouched beside her, ignoring the guards’ warnings not to come too close to the cage now.

“Viv…” he whispered, breath trembling a little. “I was afraid I’d miss you before your shift.”

Her chest rose and fell quickly. Something inside her. She could not name it. Whether it was hesitation, fear, desire or stirred dangerously.

"I feel no honor in this."

"Shh,” Oliver whispered, hand brushing her back lightly, a touch full of care. “It’s okay. You don’t need to be ashamed. Every one has been there, but not all the rest will be here. you’re strong, and… ”

"What do you mean by not all the rest will be here."

"That will be a story for another day. How are you doing though?"

“I… I’m scared,” she admitted

“Just know I didn't want to come. It hurts me to see you like this. I feel like a sinner for seeing you in this state. Your beauty will blind me,” he teased softly, then glanced down at himself. “Though clearly, the palace had other plans.”

Despite the terror around them… she laughed weakly.

Oliver’s jaw clenched. “You’re shaking.”

“So are you.”

“I’m a man. I’m allowed to shake a little. You’re a woman. You’re allowed to shake a lot.” Then he smirked. “But don’t worry. I’ll be right here. Until that cage is opened, am not going back. I want to see your beautiful wolf.”

Cecilia frowned at him. “Boy, stop lying”

“I’m not lying,” he said firmly. “I care about you Viv.” He said looking directly into her eyes.

Vivienne looked away quickly, cheeks warm. “Not now, Oliver.”

“Why not? If we die tonight, I’d rather die honest.”

Her heart stuttered. “Now you are bringing in death. Don’t talk about dying. No one is dying tonight”

He gently touched her shoulder, a light respectful and careful touch. “I won’t let anything hurt you,” he said quietly. “Even if I have to fight the whole cage.”

He was furious. “This is barbaric,” he whispered under his breath.

A guard heard him. “Shut up, boy.”

Oliver didn’t even turn. “Make me.”

The guard stepped forward, raising his baton.

Cecilia grabbed Oliver’s wrist. “Please,” she whispered, eyes wide. “Not tonight.”

Oliver swallowed hard. Backed down. Barely.

A guard barked at him to step back.

Oliver glared but obeyed.

Vivienne felt something strange stir in her chest. . Her chest rose and fell, her heart caught between fear, embarrassment, and something she didn’t yet understand. Something dangerous. Something warm. Something she wasn’t ready to name. However, she knew well that it had something to do with Oliver, she couldn't admit it yet.

Then the bells rang

Both worlds, nobles and slaves, heard it.

GONG.GONG.GONG.

The transformation hour was upon them.