Chapter 5: The Hunger

The crystals were delicious.

Arielle ate three.

Then five.

Then the whole bowl was empty.

She licked the blue dust from her fingers.

The hunger in her gut finally settled.

She felt buzzed.

Hyper-aware.

Her hearing stretched out past the heavy oak door.

She could hear footsteps in the hallway.

Whispers.

"Is she in there?"

"The King's pet?"

"I heard she has no scent."

"Maybe she's a witch."

"We should kill her before she curses the pack."

Arielle walked to the balcony doors.

She opened them.

The wind howled, carrying snow into the room.

She stepped out.

The cold didn't bite anymore.

The mana in her blood acted like a furnace.

She looked down.

Fifty feet below, a training yard was carved into the ice.

Wolves were sparring.

Shirtless men and women in tactical pants.

Punching. Kicking. Shifting mid-air.

It was brutal ballet.

They were fast. Strong.

Discipline radiated from them.

Damian's pack was a gang of thugs compared to this.

This was an army.

A man in the center of the yard looked up.

He had red hair and a scar across his nose.

He saw her.

He nudged the woman next to him.

She looked up too.

Then another.

Soon, twenty wolves were staring at the balcony.

Hostile stares.

Predatory.

"Jump!" one of them shouted.

"Let's see if witches can fly!"

Laughter rippled through the yard.

Arielle leaned over the railing.

She didn't shrink back.

She smiled.

"I don't fly," she called down.

Her voice carried effortlessly over the wind.

"I climb."

The laughter died.

They weren't expecting her to answer.

The red-haired man snarled.

"Get back inside, Stray."

"Before I climb up there and drag you down."

Arielle’s black eye pulsed.

A challenge.

She loved it.

Before she could reply, the bedroom door clicked open.

Arielle turned around.

A young girl walked in.

She held a tray of food.

She looked terrified.

She was small, skinny, with mousy brown hair.

Her uniform was too big for her.

An Omega. The lowest rank.

The girl froze when she saw the empty crystal bowl.

Her eyes went wide.

"You... you ate them?"

Arielle stepped back inside and closed the balcony doors.

"Was I not supposed to?"

"Those are lamp refills, Miss," the girl squeaked.

"Raw mana. They burn normal people's insides."

Arielle patted her stomach.

"I feel fine."

"Actually, I feel great."

The girl set the tray down on the table with shaking hands.

Roast chicken. Potatoes. Wine.

It smelled heavenly.

But Arielle realized she craved the crystals more.

"What's your name?" Arielle asked.

The girl flinched.

"Sera, Miss."

"Don't call me Miss. I'm Arielle."

"I can't do that, Miss."

"The Alpha said you are a guest."

"Guests are above Omegas."

Arielle sat down on the bed.

"Come here, Sera."

Sera took a hesitant step forward.

She smelled like fear and cleaning supplies.

"Are they treating you well here?"

Sera looked at the floor.

"It is... better than the South."

"King Lycian is fair."

"But the pack..."

She trailed off.

"The pack is cruel," Arielle finished for her.

Sera nodded slightly.

"I'm weak. I can't shift properly."

"So I clean."

Arielle looked at Sera closely.

With her Void eye, she saw something else.

Sera wasn't just weak.

There was a blockage in her chest.

A knot of silver energy tangling her wolf spirit.

It wasn't a defect.

It was a curse.

Someone had sealed her power.

"Who did that to you?" Arielle asked.

Sera looked up, confused.

"Did what?"

" The knot in your chest."

"The reason you can't shift."

Sera’s mouth opened.

"I... I was born like this."

"The doctors said I was a runt."

"No," Arielle stood up.

She walked over to Sera.

"You're not a runt."

"You're a battery."

"Someone tied your power so they could siphon it."

Sera took a step back.

"That's impossible."

"Only high-level witches can do that."

"Exactly," Arielle said.

She remembered the whispers outside.

Maybe the North wasn't as pure as Lycian thought.

There were spies here. Saboteurs.

"Let me fix it," Arielle offered.

She raised her hand.

Black mist danced on her fingertips.

Sera gasped and covered her mouth.

"Void magic!"

"You are a witch!"

"Shh," Arielle put a finger to her lips.

"I'm a Glitch."

"And I can untie knots."

"Do you want to be a wolf, Sera?"

"Or do you want to be a maid forever?"

Sera looked at the door.

Then at Arielle's hand.

Tears welled in her eyes.

"I want to run," she whispered.

"I want to hunt."

"Then hold still."

Arielle placed her hand on Sera's chest.

It was cold.

Sera gasped but didn't pull away.

Arielle closed her eyes.

She visualized the silver knot.

It was tight. Complex.

But Void didn't untie things.

Void consumed things.

Eat, Arielle commanded the mist.

The black energy surged.

It attacked the silver knot.

It bit through the magic strands.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

Sera screamed.

It wasn't pain. It was release.

A shockwave of energy blasted out from her body.

The windows rattled.

The tray of food flipped over.

Sera fell to her knees.

Her bones cracked.

Her skin rippled.

Fur sprouted. Brown and gold.

In seconds, the small girl was gone.

A sleek, golden wolf stood in the room.

It wasn't a runt.

It was beautiful. Powerful.

The wolf looked at its paws.

It let out a joyous howl.

AWOOOO!

The sound echoed through the castle.

Down in the courtyard, the sparring stopped.

Wolves looked up.

"Who is that?"

"That howl... it's strong."

"Is it the Stray?"

The bedroom door slammed open.

Lycian stood there.

His claws were out.

His eyes were glowing gold.

Ready to kill.

He saw Arielle standing calmly by the bed.

He saw the golden wolf panting happily on the rug.

He paused.

He recognized the scent.

"Sera?" he asked.

The wolf yipped and wagged its tail.

It rubbed its head against Arielle's leg.

Lycian looked at Arielle.

"What did you do?"

"I fixed her," Arielle said.

"She wasn't broken. She was sabotaged."

"You have a rat in your castle, Lycian."

"Someone who curses children."

Lycian’s expression darkened.

The gold in his eyes turned to molten lava.

"Show me."

"Show me the signature of the curse."

Arielle held up her hand.

A remnant of the silver energy floated in her palm.

"Do you recognize this magic?"

Lycian stepped closer.

He sniffed the silver wisp.

His face went pale.

Then furious.

"Freya," he growled.

"That is Freya's signature."

"My Head Beta."

Arielle smirked.

"The pretty blonde who hates me?"

"Imagine that."

"Looks like I'm not the only monster in the castle."

Lycian turned to the door.

"Stay here."

"Sera, guard her."

The golden wolf growled in agreement.

Lycian marched out.

The air in the hallway dropped ten degrees.

He was going to hunt.

Arielle walked to the balcony again.

She looked down at the courtyard.

Freya was down there, yelling at the trainees.

Lycian burst out of the castle doors below.

He didn't speak.

He shifted mid-stride.

A massive grey storm wolf.

He launched himself at Freya.

Freya screamed.

Arielle leaned on the railing, watching the chaos unfold.

She grabbed a chicken leg from the floor.

She took a bite.

"Dinner and a show," she whispered.

"I think I'm going to like it here."