Mated to the Lycan King

The very first time I met King Nicholas, I was covered from head-to-toe in dirt, food and red stains of blood−not just mine, but his fiancé’s as well. She too was sprawled out on the floor, rivalling me in looking like a complete and utter mess… but I’m getting ahead of myself. Instead, I’ll start right at the beginning, with two teaspoons of sugar being thrown haphazardly into my warm coffee and the familiar, damp scent of rain hanging in the cool air. It was yet another deceptively peaceful day, promising nothing more than mundanity and gave no warning of the extraordinary events which would later unfold.

Across from me, occupying herself with her own warm drink, sat the ‘never-to-be-taken-too-seriously’ head of the house herself, Ophelia. She was late for work again, according to the old rustic clock which hung against the deep purple wall and ticked loudly above her head. Nonetheless, she took her sweet time enjoying the remnants of her coffee. Once she was satisfied that the cup was empty enough for her liking, she placed it down on the surface of the cherry wood surface of the table beneath us both and flashed her violet eyes towards my brown ones.

“Don’t forget to send my regards to your brother and to tell him that I miss him.” She then paused for a moment; her brown eyes suddenly filled with that familiar look of sadness it always seemed to carry whenever she mentioned my brother. But she soon wiped it away, furrowing her brows into a much sterner look before saying firmly, “And would you please stay out of trouble, Ariya!” 

Although Ophelia carried the self-proclaimed superiority of the lycans in her blood, she’d become the closest thing I had to family for a while now and so, it was not uncommon for her to worry about me− especially since my natural inclination to find trouble and general human status made me a walking target to those of her kind that were less compassionate than she was.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be on my best behaviour!” I said with a wide, cheeky grin.

 She cocked a thick, violet tinted brow, unconvinced, and then stood up from her chair before placing her dark eyes on her watch and cussing. She’d finally realised just how late she was running. And so, she began to grab at her belongings before heading to the door and yelling out a farewell as she rushed through it. I sighed deeply and smiled fondly at the familiarity of it all before I continued to gulp at my coffee. It was my favourite type of coffee, uniquely strong and yet light with a subtle chocolatey undertone. Ophelia had always made sure that we’d never run out of it, and I’d always made sure to never go a morning without it.

Once my coffee cup was empty, I cleared up the kitchen and began to get ready for my journey to see my brother. Although she’d never admit it, Kiyan was Ophelia’s favourite and so when he had blatantly refused her offer to visit him for his 21^st birthday, she was left distraught and heartbroken.  I, on the other hand, had been left confused and concerned by his refusal to see her, even more so when he had specifically asked for me instead. In fact, everything my brother had done these past few months had left me wondering where his head was at these days. It all began when he’d moved out a few months ago seeking independence and ‘freedom’. According to the last phone call I’d had with him, he’d found his independence somewhere in Zestonia, a warm and tropical sub-region right in the centre of the region of Iris. Iris was further divided into another three sub-regions according to their temperate climate: Kryonne, cold and snowy; Anemodis, windy and dry and then finally, the sub-region I resided in, Vrocher which was characterised by its wet and rainy climate.

Vrocher and Zestonia were almost two worlds apart, and so I spent most of my morning on the road, driving. For the most part, the roads were wet and unpleasant to be on, but they were relatively empty of any other vehicles. The lycans in Vrocher tended to stay inside most days. If they needed anything, they’d send their human servants out in the cold and rain, most times on foot, with nothing but an umbrella in hand to keep the elements at bay. I was one of the lucky few who got a car, and even luckier that Ophelia did most of the ‘out-of-house’ escapades.

 It was about nearly midday when I finally reached the golden gates in the centre of the giant golden wall that served to create a large, almost mockingly extravagant border between Zestonia and the rest of the other three sub-regions. Beyond the golden wall, almost making it appear as though Zestonia truly was an entirely new world, stretched an abundance of blue skies. I’d heard of how the weather changed as one travelled throughout Iris, but to see it up close and so prominently, was something else entirely. I paused for a moment and stared in awe at how the grey clouds completely stopped, hovering just above the golden wall, almost afraid to touch and taint the brilliant blue skies beyond it.

The wall was lined with security guards who patrolled the border, all of which were human. One of them neared my stationary car, and as she did, I rolled down my window before greeting the tall, unfriendly woman who peered into my vehicle.

“Papers!” she demanded, without so much as an acknowledgement towards my greeting. My smile faltered and I bit my tongue hard as I reached for my bag, adamant on remaining polite for the sake of Ophelia. I rummaged through the contents of the bag until my fingers touched my identification papers, and then I held them out proudly for the woman to inspect. She snatched at them, examined the writing on the stapled-together pieces of paper and then handed me my papers back before running her fingers through her short, blonde curly hair and asking, “Reason for visiting?”

“I’m here to see my brother,” I said.

“For how long?”

“Just for the day.”

She nodded before turning to the other guards and holding a thumbs up.

“You may proceed.”

Suddenly, the golden gates began to open, revealing the beauty within them. Zestonia was the heart and soul of Iris and was the source of most of Iris’ economic activity. The richest and most powerful of Iris’ lycans stayed here and as such, the place had a certain air of superiority. I noticed as I drove through the streets that the paint still looked new and fresh, the grass on the pavements was cut neatly and not a single piece of litter was in sight. The pavements had been divided into halves, one half was filled with neatly planted rows of flowers and succulents and the other half left open enough space for pedestrians to walk on. It was quite different to the dullness and dreariness of Vrocher. There, the paint on the streets had faded with the rain and the pavements were always muddy and the grass and plantation always seemed to wash away with the frequent flooding. Even the houses there looked sad, old and worn down by the harshness of the constant rain. Despite its shortcomings, I liked staying in Vrocher with Ophelia. It was safe, familiar and comforting. But for a moment, just a small, tiny moment, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to stay here instead. It had been so long since I had seen the sun shining so brightly and even though the rays had been watered down when they shone through the windows of the car, they still felt heavenly and warm against my skin.

It took me some time to navigate myself through Zestonia, especially because the roads were so much busier than I was used to and admittedly, my navigation skills were poor. After almost an hour of driving myself into dead-ends, I was about to pull over onto the side of the road and ask my brother for directions again when I saw, up ahead, a large sign baring the name of the restaurant I was to meet Kiyan at. I sighed in relief and parked as close to the entrance as they allowed humans to. My navigation skills might have been awful, but at least I had luck on my side… or so I thought.

The restaurant was fancier than I imagined and was divided into two levels. The top was reserved for lycans and their human servants, and the bottom for humans who had come without their masters and mistresses. The tables were all made from expensive wood, dressed in cloths intricately patterned in silver and gold and the marble floors echoed the silver and gold patterns of the tablecloths. The golden painted walls were decorated with beautiful paintings and sculptures and here and there were vases of extremely rare flowers placed on top of small pedestals. The moment I reached the door, the pleasant warmth inside engulfed my body, and I was greeted politely by a waitress who stood by the door. Her name was Lilac, according to her nametag.

“Table for one?” she asked as she grabbed a menu from one of the stacks on a nearby table.

“Oh, no, I’m actually here to meet my brother.” My brown eyes took a quick glance towards the people seated as I searched for a familiar head of short, dark hair. “There he is!” I practically yelled out and pointed towards my brother once I’d finally located him.

Lilac smiled and then politely stepped aside, allowing me to enter the restaurant. Once I’d made it to my brother’s table, I froze, and he did too. We hadn’t parted on the best of terms and the strange sting of the words he’d left both Ophelia and I with before he left, still hung in the air between us. And so, we were both temporarily overcome by an awkward sense of caution. But the moment I had decided to take a few more steps towards him− a sign of good faith on my part− caution was thrown to the wind. Kiyan almost immediately let out a sigh of relief, smiled, got up from his chair and wrapped his arms tightly around me. I responded by pulling him closer and burying my face in the crook of his neck as I stood on my toes. He smelled different and unfamiliar, almost mimicking the bright, rich, opulence of Zestonia. It was as though the place had engulfed him in its scent, claiming him as one of its residents. I also noticed that his skin, which used to be roughly the same golden brown as mine, had changed to a more intense shade of darker brown, no doubt the result of his enjoyment of the warm and sunny weather here instead of the dull and dreary weather back in Vrocher. He’d even gotten significantly more muscular, and his shoulders were much broader and sturdier than I remembered them being. I was relieved, to say the least. During these last few months, I'd been so worried about my brother. I was worried that he’d have trouble adjusting and I was worried that he’d find it difficult to fend for himself. But I could see now that the opposite was true. Here, he was thriving and fuller of life than I’d ever seen him before.

“It’s so great to see you!” he said with a bright, beaming smile as he pulled away from me.

I returned his smile and said, “Likewise, Kiyan, and happy birthday!”

As I said this, I reached into my bag and pulled from it a small box before handing it to him. Kiyan gave out a surprised gasp, took it from my hands and began to open it up as he sat down. I sat down as well and watched his hazel eyes light up as he lifted up a beautiful golden chain from the box.

“Oh, it’s beautiful… and probably expensive! I told you, no gifts!”

I shrugged and said, “I wrote a few more short articles for Ophelia’s publishing house, and they rewarded me graciously, so I just had to get you something. Besides, it’s a big day for you, twenty-one!”

This was only half true. Although I had received some money from the short articles I’d written, it was hardly enough to help me pay for Kiyan’s gift. Ophelia contributed most of the money, but insisted I keep this little fact a secret from my younger brother.

“Speaking of… I got you something too!” With that, he reached into his bag and then held out a beautiful, dark purple, knitted scarf.

“I-it’s nothing much. But I just thought that I’d get your something too, to say sorry and… thank you.”

I took the scarf from him, wrapped it loosely around my neck and then asked curiously, “I accept your apology… but what are you thanking me for?”

He smiled and sighed before placing his hand under his chin and leaning onto it. I could tell by the stormy look in his eyes exactly what he was going to say and so I interrupted him by snatching at his menu and asking if he had ordered already.

“Uh huh, and I got you a steak.”

“Great, now tell me,” I began, trying to keep the conversation going to prevent him from thinking back to what had made him so gloomy before, “how’s life in Zestonia been treating you? What have you been doing with yourself all these months?”

I could see his shoulders tense up for a moment before he relaxed them and forced a smile.

“Oh, you know… this and that,” he said before scratching at his neck nervously. His vagueness brought about an intense curiosity in me. I set it aside however, knowing that my curiosity and his newfound secretive nature would only clash and bring the two of us to another argument. I was far too happy to see him and refused to let anything ruin this visit, especially when I did not know how long it would be until the next.

The food arrived soon and by then, Kiyan and I had found ourselves deep in conversation as he tried his best to describe his experiences in Zestonia, taking care not to reveal too much to me. Despite his cryptic behaviour, I couldn’t help but notice how happy and fulfilled he sounded. And so, I hung onto his every word, delighted in all of the experiences he’d had thus far- bathing in the sun, making new friends, tasting the delicious delicacies which Zestonia had to offer. But the shininess and purity of this joyful moment we shared was shattered the moment Kiyan’s eyes landed on something rather odd on the staircase next to our table. Coming down from the stairs was a young, beautiful woman, and trailing behind her, led by a firm leash which was attached to his tight collar, was her worn-down servant. He was tired and pale, and his shoulders slumped forward as he followed behind the woman. Large, blue bruises coloured his pale skin and old scars were etched into it. The practise of leashing servants had become extremely uncommon over time and was only used within the cruellest lycan families. And so, the entire room fell into a horrified and stunned sense of silence as the pair reached the bottom of the staircase. The feeling of nausea lurched through me, but that wasn’t the problem. It was the brewing rage beneath it. My hands immediately clenched into balls of tight fists, and I began to tap my foot on the floor and bite onto my tongue as hard as I could. I promised Ophelia that I wouldn’t get into trouble, and I refused to cause a scene on my brother’s birthday. But I soon realised that I was not the one who would be getting into trouble today. Kiyan stood up abruptly, setting everyone’s attention on him, including mine. The moment my eyes met his, I was instantly taken back to the day he had decided to leave home. He wore that exact same look. His eyes were filled with an intense look of hatred which bordered on absolute disgust. The man who stood before me now, was no longer someone I recognised. And an aching sense of fear and confusion filled me, just as it had the day he’d left home.

I reached out in an attempt to snap him out of whatever had taken a hold of him but was hardly fast enough because in the next moment, he broke into a run and then snatched at the leash and tugged it out of the woman’s grasp. And in that moment, a different type of fear and a sense of panic crept into me as I gazed at the look on her face. It was a look ghosts of my past had once worn before they’d become ghosts. There was no mistaking the murderous intent behind it. Immediately I got up from my chair and rushed over to my brother, but as I reached him, the lycan’s hand collided forcefully with Kiyan’s cheek, sending him falling to the floor. I knew she wouldn’t stop there, and so as she neared him with a clawed hand and fangs baring, I raced towards her, tackling her body with mine. We both came crashing painfully to the ground. She let out a growl and cussed at me before grabbing at me with her clawed fingers. They dug into my arms, spilling blood, the same colour as her hair. I yelped loudly in pain and anger and attempted to free myself from her grasp. If I was going to die today, I’d at least go out fighting. I only managed to get one of my arms free from her strong grip, but it was enough for me to start swinging my fist to her face. Although I’d grown relatively strong through the years, I still wasn’t strong enough to win a fight against a lycan. Ophelia had, however done a good job of teaching me how to defend myself, and so when I did land my few punches, they drew a decent amount of blood and left behind a few bruises I knew would take a while to heal− even for a lycan.

I was about to launch another punch into her face when she caught my fist in her hand. I could tell by the terrifying look in her red eyes that those few punches would be the only two hits I’d get in before my death. She growled and bared her fangs at me, sending blood dripping from her teeth and onto my clothes. I thought she’d end it right then and there, but instead, she flung me off of her. My body went flying into one of the tables, knocking the plates off so that food stains were now smeared on my already blood-stained clothing. It took me a moment to get my bearings before I noticed that I had landed next to my brother. He clutched at the arm he’d fallen onto, and I noticed a bruise forming on the side of it. I was relieved to find that other than the injury on his arm, he was fine. But my relief was short-lived when I saw the look on his face again. He was so full of rage and determination that it sent shivers down my spine and the feeling of fear tugged once again at the bottom of my stomach.

Kiyan slowly stood up and faltered on his feet. The lycan laughed and then asked threateningly, “What? You want some more?”

He nodded and a wicked smile appeared on his face. The lycan gracefully got to her feet and soon, the two began to near each other. Almost driven by some sort of protective instinct, I scrambled to my knees, grabbed onto Kiyan’s ankle and then sent him falling to the ground as I tugged on it as hard as I could. But that didn’t seem to bother the lycan at all. Instead, it made her quicken her pace towards us. And so, I threw my body on top of my brother’s, clutching onto him for dear life while he tried to fling me off. All I could do was hold on as tightly as possible and wait for the next blow.

But it never came. Instead, the only thing that could be heard were the angry shrieks of my brother, and then silence. It was a short-lived silence, lasting for only a brief moment before it was shattered by a single word, uttered by an unfamiliar voice.

“Mate…”

________ 

A/N: The elemets of Greek Mythology that I have used may not be 100% true to the original Greek mythology I have derived some of my material from. I have tweaked some aspects in a way that best suits my book.