Queen of the iron throne

The mood in our estate's yard is tense. My siblings are slightly confused, and I can practically hear the question they are trying to figure out as they turn in my direction: why is she going hunting with us?

Considering that I don't frequently go on hunts, I can appreciate their perplexity. When I have, it has always resulted in me being lost or, in more serious situations, having to visit the hospital. But they are blind to the looks that my parents give me, their eyes blazing with anticipation. They don't need to explain anything to me because I already understand that it's a test. An examination of my merit, my eligibility to be called an Agnarys. Not only will I be failing them, but also myself, if I fail this hunt.

I have to make sure I don't disappoint my parents who will be watching today.

Go easy on yourself, Naomi. Just give it your all," Jade advises. Her guarded concern glitters in her dark green eyes as I glance into them. Jade, who is a year my senior, has always been the sweetest sister I have, yet occasionally even her encouraging remarks come across as condescending. "Always stop if you experience palpitations. There's no need to exert yourself as no one is expecting much of you."

Her words have a double edge, and I smile. She probably doesn't mean to do that. "Yes," I reply.

I refuse to. Given that this is an eligibility exam, how can I? A measure of my value?

I turn to face my parents; the older one is chatting with one of my brothers, while the younger one is watching her kids from the periphery. Among two older sisters, one older brother, and two younger brothers, I am the fourth in a line of six.

For a brief while, I watch them. This is merely a game, another way for my siblings to kill time. But for me, this is an assessment of my power. How can I ever be able to call myself a werewolf if I fail this?

I tell myself, You'll succeed at this. Even yet, I hold off on having my concerns while my siblings gradually change into their wolves all around me. The air is filled with the sound of ripping cloth as human bodies give way to flexible lupine ones, which are full of lethal grace and tremendous muscle. They all have the same coloring, which includes tanned skin, dark eyes, brown hair, brown fur, and other Agnarys features. Being one of the five Noble bloodlines, we maintain our distinct appearance much like all the other bloodlines. My family looks the part, with their warm tones and dark features, fitting the Agnarys, the house of fire.

I stare at my blank arms, seeing pale flesh turn to pale fur. The conspicuous exception is myself.

Someone sneers, "You have a hell of a lot of faith in yourself." I turn and face my oldest sister's chestnut gaze, feeling physically tight. With her hands on her hips, she smirks down at my wolf-like figure as she stands above me. "Stop while the going is good. You're not going to survive past the fucking tree line."

Jade responds, "Knock it off, Althea," but it's obvious she's not really listening. Her gaze is fixed on Mom's, and I feel a wordless conversation between them. That's not unusual how my siblings regard Mother. She never fails to let us know that she always expects the best from us. Maybe not so much from me, though.

However, such will not be the case today.

Althea looks at Jade with a bitter frown. "What? Not that I'm incorrect. Naomi is simply acting in this way, as we all know, to appear respectable to the Queenstrials." She looks up at me. However, if you believe you have a chance, you are insane. It's not going to alter now that you haven't caught a hare in any of these hunts. What difference will it make, even if you do? In any case, Prince Kohl would never choose an invalid like you."

The mention of the Queenstrials makes me anxious, and I can tell Jade feels the same way. Every day that the Queenstrials have been closer, the family's tension has increased, but I guess I can understand why. Even the girls who aren't qualified for it are aware about the Queenstrials on the continent of Raelia. Because it is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, noble mothers wait to have children until after the queen has given birth. Upon the Gahndor bloodline's crown prince reaching adulthood, each eligible girl from the five Noble families will get the chance to engage in a tough competition for his heart. The competition is mostly a demonstration of power and strength, both of which I am aware I lack. Nevertheless, the prince will have the last word.

I gulp. Prince Kohl is a name I've heard a lot about, but words only get so mixed up before becoming lost. There are many who describe him as kind, benevolent, or perhaps mentally challenged. I don't think the latter is true. The only thing that is known about him, though, is that he is a Gahndor, and since he is descended from the royal line, that means that he also has to have golden eyes. They all do.

I glance closely at Althea. I don't think she has the prince's best interests for the Queenstrials in mind. It doesn't matter if the prince chooses me. My only concern is demonstrating my worthiness to everyone, not only Kohl. To me, my only chance to prove myself will be in the Queenstrails, and I'll try just as hard as the others regardless of what Althea says. "You don't know what I'm capable of." 

Althea chuckles. "Anyhow, Invalid, have fun getting outpaced by the rabbits."

Althea then changes into a brown-furred wolf and walks off. Her words affect me more than I would like to acknowledge, even if I try to ignore them. I'm not exactly the strongest werewolf alive, with a body as brittle as glass and a heart that could fail at any time. 'Invalid' is a term I know, but I can't seem to connect it to who I am. Yes, runt, but not invalid? That's only for the most helpless of helpless. I don't believe I'm all that bad.

Mother says, "Children, gather around." I watch as her clothing rip from her form and she transforms into her wolf, her brown hair becoming brown fur. She prefers to dress formally, unlike the rest of us who usually choose baggy attire that is simple to get out of after a shift. I'm not sure why exactly; I've lost count of how many dress pants and blouses she's ripped apart. However, it's not like she can't afford it—after all, she is a Noble.

We gather around her in silence. My father returns with my three brothers, who are all quiet and watchful.

"We're going to go on a hunt for hares," she announces. "Always be watchful and mindful. I'm counting on at least one catch from each of you." Her gaze sweeps across all of us, and for a few while, it lingers on mine, causing my stomach to tighten. 

Her departure serves as our silent hint to prepare. Leaning forward, I put one foot in front of the other, getting ready to race. Tentative silence for some seconds. In an instant, we will all be prepared and poised. After then, everyone is running in the direction of the tree line. My body rapidly gets used to running on four legs instead of two, but I am already falling behind as I get to the forest's boundaries.

As he speeds by, my older brother Jason shouts, "Pick up the damn pace, Naomi!" He rushes to the front of the pack, and I ignore him and his insulting tone. I might be smaller than them, yes. Yes, I might be more brittle and physically weaker...

However, they are not familiar with the forest as I am.

I struggle to breathe as I linger near the rear of the pack, dust and dirt particles getting into my lungs. I focus with each deep breath, waiting for it to sink in. At last, I detect the subtle aroma of the animal I'm searching for—a hare.

I look straight forward. My siblings are now farther away; the dense vegetation makes it difficult for me to see them. They will be gradually but steadily closing the distance as they follow the hare's smell as it runs. They can catch the hare in their jaws in a matter of minutes at most.

Unless I arrive sooner, the closest hare warren is a few minutes to the west, according to my mental map of the woodland. I keep swallowing the air. I am aware of the danger, but there's a good possibility the hare will run for cover in a neighboring warren. And my only edge right now is what I forecast.

I closed my eyes. I can be a straggler at times. The next, I'm veering off course and getting farther and farther away from my pack. I believe I hear Althea make a sarcastic comment about me, but I'm not positive. I can't hear anything else because my heartbeat is so loud in my ears. Blood is roaring.

Unbelievable, Unbelievable, Unbelievable. I have to maintain consistency. If I don't, it will overcome me. I find a tempo that works for me when I'm running—not too fast to be taxing, nor too slow to put me at a disadvantage. Soon, all that's left are the sounds of my labored breathing as I crouch beneath fallen logs and hop over streams. Despite my physical state, I enjoy running. Actually, I adore it. I adore the way the wind tousles my fur and the soft, springy moss beneath my paws. I would love to be able to run nonstop, to the ends of the world, away from my troubles and expectations.

Tha-dunk, Tha-dunk, Tha-dunk. However, my heart won't let it happen.

I keep moving in the direction of the warren for several minutes. I start to second-guess my choice as the hare's scent wanes. But hope returns to me just when I'm about to quit up. Nearer. More powerful. My heart leaps with victory as I break through a thicket and hear the patter of paws and labored breaths behind me. My forecasts came true. As I sprint, my gaze searches ahead, and suddenly I see it. A white-furred hare hops between stones, dashes beneath logs, and kicks back on its hind legs. I exert more effort to close the gap, its aroma a tribute to my triumph.

The sequence is Tha-dunk-dunk-Tha-dunk-Tha-dunk.

A figure bursts up my flank. My body is covered with stitches, my muscles ache, and my chest hurts with every gasp of breath, yet I don't slow down. I press on, pushing even harder, my entire attention on the rabbit in front of me rather than my heart's dangerously erratic rhythm. I'm going to prevail here. I must prevail in this.

I can instantly identify the person running next me when I hear their mocking voice. "Give it up, Naomi," Althea growls in between panties. "This life wasn't made for you."

I ignore her. My attention is on the prize, on the hare. My legs are screaming, my body is burning, and my heart is racing so fast I can't even hear it, but I'm not going to stop. I know I could be endangering my life right now, that I'm going to go into arrhythmias. But it will all be worthwhile if I can only catch this goddamned stupid hare.

I run more quickly than I have ever run. I can hear the hare breathing quickly as I come close enough to feel the adrenaline pumping through me. This is the last bit of the race. That concludes it.

three inches. two limbs. Just one foot. I make a move.

Dunk-tha-tha, dunk-tha, dunk-tha, dunk-tha—

When anything hits my side, everything tilts. My head hits the floor so hard that red, green, and blue shoots into my eyes. For a split second, I can't quite believe what I'm seeing: the hare is sprinting away from me, and my siblings are chasing after it, one by one, past, over, and around me, chasing the prize that should have been mine. I own that.

There's a cracking in my heart. I can see the outlines of two persons, but I can't take my eyes off the scene. As I watch them go, it dawns on me that this is one of those occasions that will stick in my memory forever and torment me in my dreams. 

I cock my head to look up at the wolf that is above me after what seems like an age.

I'd like to yell at her. I want to chastise her profanity for undermining me and taking away my triumph. But I can't because of my lungs. I feel as though I haven't breathed in years as I am gasping for oxygen.

Althea just looks at me for a moment, her eyes harsh. She then forces me into the earth by pressing her paw down on my head.

Beside my ear, she bends down. Her voice is dark and low as she replies, "I'm doing you a favor, Runt." "You will never belong here. You're not going to be a real werewolf. Recognize it."

I meet her ruthless gaze, and even though my heart is already breaking, I can't help but feel it break even more when I see the sincerity in her words and the conviction in her eyes. She releases my head after a short while and trots off. My gaze then shifts to the other two individuals in the vicinity. With a look of disappointment on their lupine faces, my parents gaze at me. Not shocking, but disappointed. My eyes burn. I let them down.

They turn to go, quietly. My mother's voice is ringing in my ears, so I know she's speaking to me, but I just can't make out what she's saying. Not with my heart thudding arrhythmically and not with blood rushing through my skull.

I watch as they turn to leave. I keep watching them till I am unable to see any more.

Three-Dunk, Four-Dunk, Five-Dunk-Tha-Dunk...

In the hospital I wake up.

By the time my eyes fly open, it's dark. The sun is setting beyond the hazy horizon outside the window, and I am completely alone in this otherwise dark room but for the light from a few of candles.

I lean back against the pillow and suddenly a stabbing pain emerges in my left shoulder. A splinter of moonstone protrudes from my flesh, glinting in the candlelight as I look down. I don't care that I need it to heal me; I pull it out and throw it on the ground. I'm probably here because I don't care that I could still need it to stabilize my heart. Rather, I fix my gaze on the plaster-tiled ceiling, my eyes watering from tears as my sadness replays itself in my mind. 

Althea is accurate. Never will I be one of them. I'm not worthy at all. I will always be the little