Few weeks later “The werewolf King is dead by now,” Isobel said, her head bent dutifully to her chores in the Ancientrovan Fortress. “He is no more a King.” Amelia clipped, “Valeria does not exist anymore.” “Ah yes,” Isobel paused and then asked with a grin, “When are you telling his Lordship Fehr?” “Tonight.” “I hope it goes well.” “I hope so too.” ~**~ The last time she had been here, there had been snow on the ground and Conroy had shared the warmth of his body with hers, offering her along with it the warmth of a different kind. A warmth that erupted from the heart, that fur coverlets and fires could not give. The warmth of love, of a similar spirit that had been through the same thing she had, or that at least understood the loneliness and lack of happiness she had suffered at being orphaned. She smiled nostalgically as she dismounted from her horse, she tethered her reins beneath a rock and set her new mount to a skip and stretch out her legs. Standing on
Lighting struck across the moonlit sky, followed by a crack of thunder that momentarily made the werewolves surrounding Alpha King Conroy and Amelia Whittaker deaf. The moon was full, shining brightly as it signified the mating season for the werewolves. Other wolf packs were probably coupling and rejoicing but not the Valerian hybrid werewolves. The rain splattering down on the muddy ground splashed dirt onto Amelia’s frilled, flowing, virginal-white gown while sweat mixed with dirt dripped down Alpha King Conroy’s shirtless torso to the waistband of his black leather pants that tightly hugged his muscular thighs. “You can’t do it… Please, Amelia.” He protested. Everyone in his pack was present, his cousin Arian who is his beta and second-in-command included. An Alpha wasn’t allowed to be weak not in front of the people he was meant to protect, but Conroy was close to breaking. “Watch me, you bastard! She snarled. “Your parents weren’t innocent, they kidnapped wolves from
Eighteen moons later. One thing that was ingrained in her memory as one of the trainees of the Assassin creed revolution is the aptitude to pretend and remain calm, keeping the facial features dispassionate. She could have the most lethal weapon attached to her and still look calm and collected as a cucumber. This was achieved by one of her most intensive training, when she was locked in a dark tomb filled to the brim with scorpions. She had to keep an expressionless face and not make the slightest peep of noise. After repeating the training for the fifth time, she finally became the toughest and unbreakable assassin in the faction. Looking back on her days of training, Amelia Whittaker knew that it was worth it. But she wondered when she would be allowed to kill the King of the Valerians because she was ready. She could feel it in her bones and deep down in her heart. Her soul begged for it…her soul craved to feel his blood on the edge of her sword. This was what she had
The night was dark and not even a crescent of moon shone down, this was a night for a perfect execution and assassination and Amelia Whittaker won’t be deterred from the one mission she had trained for half her life by the assassin’s leader of the creed. To kill Alpha king Lucas Conroy, the Lycan king of the Valerian hybrid werewolves. The lack of moon made the stretch of land lying ahead and a particular castle that stood tall and proud on the ground shadowed. The cream stone craving of the castle’s walls almost seemed grey due to the darkness letting the others know it’s time to be in a peaceful slumber, not Amelia Whittaker though. The eyelids of the sole warrior guarding the gates of the castle fluttered ever so slightly and she reached into her side pocket and brought a long wooden pipe made from bamboo. It had holes on both side and a poisoned pine broken from orange trees laid inside, Amelia brought it to her mouth and blew sharply in it, her harsh breath pushing out the
Amelia first stilled a leg in the air as if to jump and her hands trembled violently as she held onto the vase. Adrenaline pumping in her veins, her senses kicked back in and she quickly returned the vase to its spot and rolled over to a tall table, hiding beneath it just as the werewolf unfurled itself from the ground and whined. Amelia watched as its yellow eyes glowed in the dark and it canines were jutting down from his jaw as he yawned. He turned to leave and then paused. He stood on hind legs and began sniffing the air. ‘Holy shit.’ Amelia thought. His nose kept twitching and the sniffing sounds continued to emit from him, then he shrugged and pawed out through the backdoor into the night, his tail swishing behind him. Amelia collapsed against the wall in relief and her grip relaxed on her silver sword. She knew her chances of surviving were next to zero had the wolf caught her. She crawled out from beneath the table in a crouch and her eyes scanned the hallway again,
Amelia Whittaker was dead, dead in the human world, dead in the real sense of a human who died taking a vial of poison. But as hybrid king Alpha Conroy pumped more of his blood into a pint connected to a slowly beating vein in her wrist, he won’t let her die. Not after waiting for her for this long. He had long given up on finding a mate as even his cousin Beta Arian, his second in command had long been mated during his teenage years. Although they never raised an eyebrow in his presence, he knew his pack needed a queen, they needed a female commander, a Luna beside their beloved Alpha. Now as he watched her deathly pale bluish lips, quivering in her ghostly state, he knew he had to swallow his pride to save her. Her eyes were squeezed shut and he would give anything to know what the colors of her eyes were. Her skin had assumed the greenish tint it did when humans died. His heart squeezed as he willed her to wake up and save him the shame. He didn’t care if she was about to ki
KING CONROY’s P.O.V Fehr Eric Andromeda Rahl IV Slayer of the blood hounds Ruler of Ancientrova” These words carved boldly on the stone slightly uplifted at the entrance of the dark forest made me know that I have arrived at the boundary dividing Valeria from Ancientrova. The horse won’t budge and take the first step in; its shoe kept clacking against the stones nervously. Not that I blamed the good horse. The forest, foreboding enough had quite a sinister aura to it and even the bravest of men couldn’t venture past the first path before fear twisted them half out their minds but I am no mere man. I jumped down from the horse’s back and after tying it reins to a sturdy branch, I lifted the hood attached to my cloak and breathed in the strangely murky air. I walked to the belly of the carriage and peered at the face of the woman who had tried to kill me in my own chambers. She hadn’t moved an inch and her shallow breathing kept getting worse as time passes and time w
King Conroy’s P.O.V I glanced ahead but couldn’t see anything other than the clusters of trees. Pausing, I looked to my right, there! I saw a crofter’s hut. I ignored the throbbing pain in my back and made for it. The barking and howling grew louder still and I cursed, “The wolves has captured her scent.” The cottage is the only hope for her safety so with vigor I ran towards it. About a hundred yards to go and my long legs were eating it up…now, thirty more feet. I snuck a peek over my shoulder to see how close the rogues were. With their appetite piques, the snarling and growling hungry animals were gaining on me. The forest had a dark magic that stopped my ankle from healing. Ten more feet... five... two… just another foot! I lunged over the porch and crashed my body into the door, almost tumbling over. I bolted inside the hut with a racing heart, it was quite dark but my eyes acclimatized it soon and then I saw a mat in the corner and ran towards it. I shook off my ma