*Rune* The water is soothing for most. For me, nothing can ever be soothing. I watch her wade in the water and make a fool of herself. I despise her, but it goes farther than cutting her hair and poisoning me when we were children. The feeling of hate is mutual, but a lot of other feelings are mutual. Feelings that will never come to fruition because of what I am and what she is. All they fear, all they run from, all they fight against lives within me, breathes within me. An entity of darkness that I cannot control. A being of evil that I have become one with. Not by choice, of course. She is our love. Our redemption. Our curse. Bound by duty, bound by a curse. Of the Goddess's making, I am not quite sure. I was born this way. With this evil living within me. I have kept it at bay for as long as I can, but the thinner the veil gets, the lesser hold I have over him. For this same reason, I cannot have her. I'll only kill her. Again.
The following days were a blur for me. Classes, training, more training and the likes. To think I had referred to regular training as grueling. Training for the Games is much, much worse. The first few hours felt like death and I have been going at it for days now. To represent Lycan School, I’d have to be at least on the level of an average lycan.Which of course, I am not.By the end of the week, with little to no progress, Chancellor Vesper strikes my name off the register. That’d make me the first royal who is unfit to participate in the Games. The first royal who cannot represent her people.Frankly, I don’t care. If it means I’ll get more sleep at night.We have not lost any more students in the last week but signs of rot have been noticed around the schools and in the realms. Suffice to say, the rot has begun.The Hekate has not visited my dreams since that night, but I find myself thinking about his words and what his motives could be. His name is all over my journals. My late
Last night; I woke up parched and oddly restless. I realize only a moment later that Sloan's restless. Not me. The thing about being werewolves is being constantly aware of the other ethereal being with which you share your skin with. Accepting them. Becoming one with them. Shifting is usually the final stage in accepting this. Lycans have it worse, I guess. Theirs is more feral and there is rarely ever a point of 'mutual agreement' between them and their beasts. It is either they dominate them or they get dominated by it. Sloan's is usually calm and barely ever says a word. She interjects sometimes but that's about it. She sleeps, and watches. On the days I shift and she has control, I have no idea what she does... I'd say I got an easy going wolf on my hands. A great contrast from everything that I am. So, it is strange to wake up to her whining, especially when I am exhausted with aches everywhere in my body and I am fucking trying to sleep.
My tongue darts out, licking the tear off his cheek and I don't realize what I have done until his fingers circle my wrist. "Astrid," Rune whispers and I pull back with wide eyes. "Oh. I—That wasn't—I wasn't trying to—" I stutter for several seconds, trying to explain why I'd done that, but I can't seem to find an answer. I stop talking when our eyes lock. I glimpse something in them that I never have before. There is a softness there, a vulnerability that is a stark contrast to the strength and cruelty I am used to. His walls have come down, if only for a moment, and I can see the fear and loathing in them. The fear, I can understand, but the hate, I do not. Seeing him like this, stripped of all of his defenses startles me. I have known the prince all my life and he's been a constant pain in my neck and thorn in my flesh. His cruel antics, insults, demeaning words, forceful aura, insensitive and utterly unacceptable behaviour, I can handle. I have learned
The kiss is fierce and passionate, born from the primal instinct of two creatures drawn to each other in a way that transcends every thought, every duty, every reason. There is nothing thing gentle about the way Rune handles me, but then, I have never been the type of woman who loves being treated like glass. He is fire and right now, I'm burning. And nothing has ever felt so good. When I cup the length of him through his slacks, he makes a sound deep in his throat that is both raw and sounds very close to the animal that lurks under his skin and it is so sexual, my folds clench hard. I shiver with wanton, unbridled lust. He slams me against the wall beside the hall's door and I shove him hard, twisting us so that his back his against the wall instead. I want control. I want him writhing for me. I want him wanting me so bad, his knees will buckle. But Rune will not be subdued. He shifts us again and my breath is knocked out of me when my back hit
" Oh, for the love of the Goddess, wipe your mouth," Chancellor Vesper says, tossing a handkerchief on the table in front of me. I don't take it. I merely stare at him with a dead-eyed expression that usually makes even my mother squirm. "You do realize what you have done is unacceptable and deserves an expulsion," he says. I say nothing still, feeling the thickness of Ginevra's blood dry up on my chin. He's been staring me down for about thirty minutes, demanding that I explain myself. But I don't. I did nothing wrong. I merely defended myself and he's seen that in his cameras--though, I think it's pretty strange that there are cameras in the restroom. I wonder if the cameras captured last night with Rune, and the moment before that as well. "Does Ginevra get punished for this?" I ask, raising my hand and the shard that's still sticking out my hand. "If she does, then I'll accept whatever punishment you give me." He pushes his glasses back and obs
I'm somewhere else today. It is cold. It is dark. I don't like it here. There is a familiar darkness lurking nearby and I do not need to see to know it is Him. Hekate. I turn around, squinting. I can't make out anything in the darkness, but I can feel an eerie presence around me. "Where is this?" I say into the darkness and it flickers. A little. Light shimmers from somewhere casting a shadow onto the land beyond. I can make out the shape of a castle, but that's about it. I'm curious. Very curious. I want to see more. His voice washes over me, bringing a strange warmth to me in this place that is freezing. I shiver slightly, suffering the sensation of wanting to snuggle something. Someone. "I have visited you. I thought I might show you my...home." Home, I ponder. "Why do you keep visiting me? Why bring me here? You wish to kill me like the rest?" He scoffs and it is the most human sound I have heard him make. "If I wanted to, you'd be long dead and rotte
I rear back, breath catching. "What? What...are you saying--what does that mean?" He turns from me sharply and his broad shoulders bunch up with tension as he stares at the wall. "Your ancestors have spun lies for centuries, pushing a narrative that is all but untrue, hiding the truth of what they have done to me and why I am really here, beyond the Void." I laugh. I hug myself and laugh harder. "You're lying." I don't doubt my father. Or the stories that I listened to every night as a child, woven from my grandmother's lips. I have heard of what my people went through at the hands of this tyrant. His brutality and cruelty that threatened to wipe out our existence. I don't doubt it for a second. "Sit." His command leaves no room for argument or fights and I hate that my legs are moving of their own volition. Somehow, against my will, I settle by the edge of the bed. I glare openly at his figure. "I am not interested in whatever lies you wish to speak."