03

Alessia woke to the soft rubbing of a thumb over her dark eyebrows. The ministrations continued until her brows knotted at the center in mild vexation, her dream of nothing fading slowly to leave an impression of warmth. She stirred sleepily, her limbs heavy with pleasure that lingered from the night before. The cozy, rich bedding felt like heaven against her skin.

The hand that caressed her face slipped down the delicate curve of her jaw to poke at the dimple on her left cheek. Alessia caught it with a quick sweep of her hand. Fingers clasped around the wrist, her green eye slipped open to hazily peer at Circe.

The princess lay on her side, face propped upon an open palm. The silken sheets had slipped down her chest to expose soft yet firm breasts with rosy tips. She smiled as their eyes met.

“What is it?” Alessia mumbled before releasing her friend’s hand and turning to press her face into the soft pillows. Keeping company with one of the Alpha’s daughters came with numerous perks, and sleeping in a queen-sized bed happened to be one of them.

Alessia had always relished such comforts, her skin still perfumed from the decadent bath and her belly mildly empty, despite eating a platter of fruits, cheese and bread that the princess had politely declined due to the number of calories. And now, she relished the warmth that spread over her bare skin from sleeping half-naked in the same bed.

It was second nature to share items between themselves, and sleeping nude was as normal as breathing.

Circe exhaled a breath and Alessia smelled the fresh mint in it. “I wish to visit the church,” she said, as if piously.

This caught Alessia’s attention for her head rose moments later, colored eyes peering from the nest of unruly curls falling over her face. “You do not believe in God.”

“No, I do not. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” she snorted in response.

“And you’re a thief.” The covers shifted down as Circe rose and stretched her arms with all the grace of a cat towards the ceiling. Her torso curved outwards, her ribcage fluttering like butterfly wings, and then Alessia was catching her eyes once more, a certain gleam to those blue orbs. “A match made in heaven, don’t you think?”

She scoffed though her lip curled in amusement. “A princess and a thief… the Alpha would have a heart attack.”

“My father is old, a heart attack is already due. It is my mother who would burn this world if she ever caught wind of-”

“Our friendship?” Alessia inquired with a dragging sigh. She kicked the covers away while rubbing her eyes vigorously with the heels of her palms. “She would never, I’m great at hiding things. And so are you.”

“Yes,” Circe muttered. Alessia felt her steady gaze for a moment before the princess turned to face the window, streams of light pouring down on her smooth, polished skin. “I suppose so.”

A beat passed and Alessia was already beginning to doze off again when suddenly, a hand clamped around her ankle and she was being dragged towards the edge of the bed.

“Let’s get ready, Lessie.”

“Give me a moment,” she grumbled, “I’m praying.”

A mellow hum of laughter was Circe’s response as she rose from the bed. Alessia’s tired eyes tracked the princess as she moved about the room, pulling open wardrobes and drawing out a dress - which in her eyes, seemed simple amidst the extravagant pieces. “Will your father permit it?”

“Permit what?”

“Visiting the church. You know how he is…”

“Daddy has grown soft for me since this is my last week of staying in his home. He believes I need to experience all the finer things in life and satisfy my heart’s desires before I, well-”

“He believes you’ll hate him less.” Alessia paused at the expression on the girl’s face, her stomach stirring. “For sacrificing you to the Lycan.”

Circe’s eyes lifted from the dress and landed on her. She smiled knowingly, sadly.

Breaking the silence that had befallen, Alessia threw a reckless leg over the bed’s edge, and released another groan of protest before rising as well. Scratching at a random spot on her belly, she made for the bathroom where her tattered clothes had been hung up to dry. She drew on the pants, then shirt, and finally her cloak. All the garments Circe had gifted her months ago now seemed worn down to the threads.

Running a hand through her curls, she tied them up into a ponytail. “Do you happen to have a-”

Something soft collided with her face. Alessia drew it away and grinned at the sight of the shawl in her hand, a simple brown color but smelling vaguely of the princess’ skin.

“You know,” Alessia started as she stepped out into the balcony and swung a leg over the railing before sitting down on it, her smile lazy. “This whole sneaking in and out has a romantic charm to it.”

Circe lowered the brush from her hair and arched an eyebrow at the thief. “Oh?”

“Don’t you think so?” The girl eclipsed the sun behind her, which was a hearth, a fire that burned the skies of late summer. But behind the forest was a darkness that loomed, cold and eternally trapped in the claws of winter. Soon, the princess would be in those claws, but Alessia refused to think about such things.

The princess wrinkled her nose. “It reminds me of Romeo and Juliet.”

Dramatically, Alessia swept a hand towards her friend with a tragic expression of adoration upon her countenance.

“Oh, Circe! Circe! Fire of my loins! Thy overripe pussy that dwelleth between your legs… thy ass cheeks freshly shaven and, uh, smooth as the moon’s surface- ″ A pillow smacked the center of her face, nearly tipping her over the edge.

“Begone thief!”

With a speckle of laughter, Alessia commenced her long descent to the bottom.

-

“There aren’t many people,” Circe pointed out with the hand that was not clutching Alessia’s bicep.

Alessia nodded with a hum, her eyes sweeping over the closed stalls and market places. Houses as well had begun boarding up their windows and doors as the sacrificial day approached. It was not just the sacrifice that had galvanized such reactions, but the rumors that came spreading from the fourth kingdom.

“They said a Lycanthrope made an appearance,” murmured the thief.

Lycanthropes were the first creatures to roam the planet, a hybrid mix of demon and wolf. From them came the lineage of wolves and demons, both separated by a realm known as the darkness. Within it, another kingdom thrived: one that was ruled by the Lycan King and his subjects. One where demons and Lycans lived side-by-side in a world of blood, gore, and violence.

No wolf had ever crossed to the darkness and vice versa for the peace had been kept through virginal sacrifices where the Lycan King would choose a breeder to satiate his appetite until the next. It was either death or a life of cruel pleasures at the hands of a beast.

But there had been rumours that itched Alessia’s ears.

Rumours of demon creatures entering the wolf realm.

A village had suddenly vanished on the outskirts of the kingdom with splashes of blood but no bodies - an eerie testament to the cannibalism of Lycanthropes who ate wolves and demons alike.

The Alphas had grown aware of such small instances, and it was enough to catalyze myriads of actions. The third kingdom had begun the construction of more walls within their territory, separating the outermost cities from the royals who resided in the interior.

The first kingdom was recruiting more soldiers and solidifying their borders.

The fourth had begun to create granaries and silos for storage, which signified the distancing and isolating of their nation from all others for the time being.

Alessia did not know about the other kingdoms.

She picked a random apple from a cart nearby, lifted it to the gray air for inspection, then tossed a coin at the old woman at the stall.

“What is your father doing?” she inquired whilst polishing the apple on her breast. When she took a bite of the succulent fruit, a burst of honey came alive in her mouth as the excess juices ran down her wrist.

Circe declined a bite of the apple. “I’m not sure. Father believes that the… beast… will quiet down once the sacrifices are done.”

They turned down a random street where street urchins crowded, either leaning against the walls or hunched down playing games with stones and chalk. One boy glanced up as they passed by. His brown eyes watched them from under a worn-out cap which he removed and tipped in their direction.

“Mornin’, princess.” Around his smashed nose, the boy had a fine-boned, aristocratic face, beautifully shaped dark brows, and long dark lashes. He was even more attractive up close with his pretty mouth, despite the dried blood from his nose that curled across his upper lip.

Alessia snorted at the boy, “She’s not interested.”

“I’d wager that.” The boy fell in step beside her, sedately leaning forward to peer at the princess, who in turn bowed her head as if knocked by a heavy wind. His lips curved wickedly. “A pretty thing for sure.” He thrust a hand out. “The name’s Damen.”

Before Circe could accept it, Alessia was intercepting with a swipe. She scowled disdainfully at him and declared, “She’s not interested, heathen.”

“I’m sure the princess has a mouth of her own, thief.”

“And why would she waste her breath on such a thing?”

“Because I’m breathtaking?” he said with a theatrical sweep of his hand through his brown hair, a streak of silver slipping between his grime-stained fingers.

Alessia mimicked a gag, then peered over her shoulder at the group of boys now watching them curiously. The majority seemed quite small except for three large ones; they were broad-shouldered and stocky, built like bulls. Her gaze returned to Damen who was tilting dangerously forward to catch Circe’s downcast expression.

She pressed her hand against his temple and shoved him hard. “Move, peasant.”

Damen stumbled briefly before catching her wrist and using it as leverage to draw both of them closer. “Not until she speaks to me.”

Alessia’s eyes flashed dangerously, a wave of wicking anger flickering in her core. “Release me,” the smoothness of her tone took on a sharp edge, like a warrior drawing his dagger across a whetstone, “Before I decapitate that hand and beat you bloody with it.”

Damen met her head-on, his height only an inch taller at five foot six. Their eyes clashed and his lips curled surreptitiously with a flicker down to her mouth. “Go on then, you know I enjoy a good fight.”

“Release her, Damen.” Circe’s voice was saccharine in comparison to theirs, a golden lyre that fluted past her delicate lips. Alessia turned to see that the princess was staring at Damen openly, almost… amiably.

Damen goggled dumbly at the attention, and as her lips curled into a small smile, Alessia swore she heard the heathen’s heart tumble down the confines of his pants.

Pathetic, she sneered inwardly. Snatching her wrist from his loosening grip, she urged Circe onwards.

“You shouldn’t have spoken to him,” Alessia muttered while peering over her shoulder to find Damen still gazing after her, eyes dilated longingly. The large boys had broken from the group to join him, bellowing chants and clapping his small shoulder with beefy hands. “Now he’ll just pester you for more syllables.”

Circe shrugged and tilted her face to the autumn sky. “He wouldn’t have released you if I didn’t.”

Damen’s dopey expression evaporated into a cocky grin and his hands rose to wave comically at their retreating figures. “The pleasure’s all mine, princess!” he bellowed. “And please, call me Dame!”

Alessia watched him. There was even, she noted with some disgust, a little bounce in his step.

They arrived at the temple and she stood a way’s back as Circe knelt at the altar, scuffing her shoe on the slabs of stone beneath. Alessia cast her a short look before shifting her attention towards the coloured glass windows depicting different gods. An abundance of candles had been lit at the front, giving the atmosphere a warm, haunted look with the faint fragrance of burning incense.

Religion was the last thing on her mind, and though she believed in the existence of some supernatural being, the thought of worshipping them - remaining faithful to an invisible entity - thoroughly baffled Alessia.

“Gods my ass,” Alessia muttered under her breath while snuffing a flame between her fingertips. The Luna Goddess, the Moon Gods, the Mountain spirits, the Seven flames… it was all folklore intended to soothe sobbing babies at night and adults who feared the concept of death and hoped that, somehow, there would be peace beyond the inevitable darkness.

But there were no gods.

There was nothing but lies and a need to console our inner child.

If they did exist, then they were perhaps the most ruthless, useless beings to roam the skies. Criminals. Torturers who subjected suffering upon those who didn’t deserve and stole all that Alessia ever had.

A body suddenly appeared behind her, nearly startling her skin off, and she jumped as a result before whirling around, hand poised over the gleaming blade tucked at her side.

Circe arched an eyebrow and said, “I’m done.” The saturated smell of incense was on her skin and a new beaded necklace hung over her chest with a small cross at the end.

“I could have stabbed you, you know.” The scowl on her face faltered as her eyes fell to the cross. “What is this?” she asked and used the blade’s edge to lift the dangling necklace from her chest, watching as the light caught the stone figure strung on the cross.

“The priest gave it to me. It’s a symbol of Christ.”

“Christ?”

“Yes, the Son of God.”

Alessia released the necklace with a disapproving look, then pivoted on one heel. “Now that you’ve had your fix of religion, can we go somewhere and eat? I’m starving.” She paused at the entrance and adjusted the shawl over her face, tucking in stray curls that curtained her apple cheeks.

Circe made a sound of agreement and slipped her hand into the thief’s.

They had dinner on the balcony of her bedroom that night. Alessia had sprawled herself out in an undignified manner on the mattress while Circe stood on the balcony patio with a bowl of grapes in hand.

“Ready?”

Alessia shuffled until her head was upside down on the divan, her curls tumbling down to brush against the wooden floors. Her eyes sparkled playfully. “Ready.”

“Mouth open.”

She did so, then squinted in concentration as Circe raised a green grape, twiddling with the succulent fruit while aiming at the thief’s gaping mouth. Alessia watched the fruit fly, color blurring so fast it seemed to dissolve in the darkness before landing perfectly in her mouth with an inaudible tap.

“My turn!” she exclaimed, teeth sinking into the grape as she gobbled it swiftly. Rising with a triumphant grunt, she grabbed a handful of grapes but Circe declined. Alessia frowned. “But you’ve barely eaten.”

It was true. Although the plates had been cleared, it was mostly due to her cavernous appetite, not the one whom the food was intended for. Circe had made a show of conversing and plucking at the fruits but never once taken a bite, pointedly ignoring the bread and cheese and never raising a crumb to her lips.

She had to maintain a certain amount of body fat and weight, keep the bird-like bones of her body ever young and light as she was told.

“Just one grape?”

“No.”

Their eyes met for a moment, and Alessia took it as a challenge. With a toss of her wrist, she flicked the grapes into the air, one, two and three, juggling them so lightly their delicate skins did not bruise.

“Toss me another.”

Circe threw in a fourth.

“Another.”

A fifth.

Her eyes flickered to the princess’ pleased ones. “More.” Six, seven, eight, nine!

Juggling was a trick of low jesters and beggars and Damen had taught her the art during one of their many nights of thievery and utter boredom. He could toss figs and fruits with the effortless grace of a ballerina - a living pattern painted on the air, so beautiful even she could not fake disinterest in the heathen.

“Nine.” Circe’s voice was somewhere in the corner of her mind, amused by the thief as she glided across the room while still juggling the grapes. “New record-”

“Add another.”

“Are you sure?”

Alessia felt her heart strum giddily. She would have spared a glance at the princess to see her radiant expression but the juggling required her every attention. “Yes.”

“Alright… watch out, thief… incoming in three… two… one-”

The tenth grape flicked into the pile, briefly startling Alessia who fumbled to incorporate it. “Lunafuckingdamnit- ″ The grapes tumbled to the floor all around her, rolling off in all directions in a struggle to escape.

Circe burst out into laughter, her blue eyes sparkling and crinkling at the corners. Feigning victory, Alessia caught one before it fell with the rest and smoothly bowed while presenting it to the princess.

“For you.”

Circe’s smile faded. “Lessie-”

“Hush,” she scolded. Straightening, Alessia bridged the final space between them and pressed the fruit to her lips. “Eat,” she said, demanding. Their gazes locked. When the princess did not yield, she applied slight pressure. “Go on.” Her eyes softened. “Do it for me.”

It took only a moment for Circe’s steel nerves to bubble and melt; her lips surrendered to the invasion and the grape slipped between them seconds later. Alessia smiled as her thumb came in contact with her cupid’s bow.

“See?” She dropped her hand with a smug smile as the princess began to eat. “Barely a calorie, still light as a bird.”

Circe looked away and swallowed, a slight hue of red clouding the highs of her cheeks.

“You should see me juggle the pomegranates… two silver coins says I can do eight-”

Alessia began to turn and reach for the bowl of fruit when a hand was clamping around her wrist, jerking her back. She turned casually, expecting some sort of rebuttal from the princess, but when hands suddenly cupped her face, she froze.

Circe’s lips touched hers a moment later.