A Harsh Reality

When Amani awoke once again, she found herself in a magnificent and luxurious bedroom, a space truly befitting royalty. The bed enveloped her in its grandeur, and she found comfort in the soft, exquisite silk sheets beneath her. Instantly, she recognized her surroundings - she had been brought to the Royal Palace. As she attempted to sit up, a sharp, searing pain shot through her body, causing her to wince in discomfort.

Taking a moment to steady herself, Amani noticed that she was adorned in a pristine white nightgown, her arms revealing the remnants of scars that marred her skin. Though they appeared to be in the process of healing, their presence still startled her. Her broken hand, now securely bandaged, offered some relief, but she knew it would take time for it to fully mend.

Suddenly, a gentle knock at the door shattered the silence, jolting Amani from her thoughts. Without hesitation, a plump, middle-aged woman entered the room, her warm and caring presence filling the space. "Oh, good, you're awake! I've come to check on you," the woman exclaimed with a hint of relief in her voice.

With a graceful stride, she approached Amani, delicately placing a tray of nourishing food on a small table nestled near a window, allowing the soft rays of sunlight to filter in. "You should eat. It will help replenish your strength," the woman suggested, casting a caring and concerned gaze upon Amani.

"I see your wounds are nearly healed," the woman said, her voice gentle yet filled with concern. "You have some strong Lycan blood there, my dear. Unfortunately, the scars will remain until you have enough strength to shift into your wolf."

"I don't have a wolf," Amani replied through clenched teeth, her voice laced with bitterness. The woman looked back at her, her face etched with confusion.

"Where are they keeping my parents and the rest of my pack?" Amani's voice trembled with desperation.

The woman's expression turned grave as she met Amani's gaze. Dread seemed to wash over her features, causing her to hesitate before speaking. "I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "But you are the only one here in the Royal Kingdom."

Amani's eyes scrutinized the woman. "You're lying!" She shot up from the bed, a rush of dizziness threatening to overpower her. She fought to maintain her balance, but her body wavered, and just as she was about to fall, the woman hurriedly reached out to steady her.

Amani's anger flared, and she slapped the woman's hands away. "Get your hands off of me!" Her voice echoed with fury. "I want to see my mother and father! I want to see them now!"

"Listen to me," the woman commanded, her voice carrying a stern tone as she firmly grasped Amani's chin. "I may overlook your hostile attitude because of who you are, but the Prince and the King have little patience and will not tolerate such behavior."

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, the woman released her hold on Amani. "I don't know how to tell you this, but... the King saw your father as a threat. It's common knowledge that the King harbors a deep hatred for rogues, and your father welcomed them with open arms."

Amani was all too aware of the Alpha King's disdain for Rogues. In fact, the Luna Queen was not Prince Malakai's biological mother. The late Luna Queen Marie had met a tragic end at the hands of a feral group of rogues, deliberately targeted to hurt the King. Prince Malakai was just a young boy of ten when he lost his mother, and since then, both the King and the Prince had transformed into the cold, ruthless Savages they were today.

The King, out of duty alone, had taken another Queen. But it was clear that he never truly loved her, for once the mate bond is formed, no other connection can compare in intensity. Even in death, the longing for one's mate persists, leaving no room for another to fill that void.

"Your father had been warned countless times,” The woman continued, her voice filled with conviction and loyalty. “He was given numerous opportunities to stop harboring rogues. Yet, year after year, he disregarded the King's orders. Bloodmoon grew in both numbers and strength, and the King feared your father would eventually declare war, seeking to dethrone him. The King managed to convince our allied packs that their safety was also at risk."

"But my father never entertained such thoughts!” Amani vehemently defended him. “He is the kindest man I've ever known, and was never driven by a thirst for power.” Her voice trembled with emotion. "How can you stand by a King who would order an attack on an entire pack based solely on unfounded assumptions?"

The woman averted her gaze, unable to hold Amani's eyes. The poor girl seemed to be on the brink of losing her sanity. "Nobody in the kingdom knew about the ambush until days later when news spread of you being the Prince's mate. I believe the King also felt threatened by you, but as Kai's mate, you are protected by the law. And rest assured, Kai won't let anyone near you, except for me."

"Where are my parents?" Amani asked again, her despair unmistakable.

The woman nervously fumbled with her fingers, still avoiding Amani's gaze. "I'm terribly sorry, my dear, but your parents are dead… they all are."

Amani couldn't comprehend what she was hearing. An overwhelming ocean of grief flooded her heart. She sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. The woman knelt beside her, hesitantly reaching out to stroke Amani's head, but Amani flinched away.

"Leave me alone... please... just go away," Amani pleaded.

The woman rose to her feet, shaking off her clothes as if trying to rid herself of Amani's bad manners. However, when she cast another glance at the weeping girl, an overwhelming wave of pity washed over her, causing her to blink back her own tears. "My name is Maggie, and I've been assigned to look after you. I'll return later to check on you." With that, she walked out of the bedroom, locking the door behind her.

Amani lay on the floor, sobbing inconsolably for what felt like an eternity. Finally, summoning what little strength she had left, she pulled herself to her feet and made her way to the washroom. The sight that greeted her in the mirror was nothing short of horrifying. Her gasp echoed through the silence of the room as she beheld the gruesome scars etched across her chest, disappearing beneath the shadows of her nightgown.

Amani's trembling hands moved instinctively, hastily discarding the nightgown to reveal her scar-ridden body in all its disfigured glory. She stood there, vulnerable and exposed, as she stared at her own reflection in horror. Her chest and torso bore a multitude of intersecting scars, a painful reminder of the brutal attack she had endured.

Unable to bear the weight of her curiosity, she turned her gaze towards her back, praying that the mirror would reveal a different truth. But her hopes were shattered as she caught sight of another set of claw marks, etched into her skin, extending from her shoulders down to the small of her back. Tears cascaded down her face, mirroring the anguish she felt deep within her soul.

With only one piece left to uncover, Amani's attention shifted to the bandage that obscured one of her eyes. With shaky hands, she carefully peeled away the protective covering. Her hand instantly flew to her mouth, attempting to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape. The wolf had also left his mark upon her beautiful face, his claws slashing a path of destruction across her left eye. The once vibrant green hue of her iris had faded, leaving behind a ghostly pallor.

Amani's heart shattered as she stared into the mirror, confronted by the cruel realization that she was now completely blind in that eye. Overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions, she crumpled to the ground, her body convulsing with grief. The dreadful reflection in the mirror taunted her, a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. She yearned for a glimpse of the person she once was, but all she saw was a fractured soul staring back at her.

She couldn't understand why she hadn't shifted. Days had passed since her birthday, yet the scars that marred her body were an undeniable testament to her wolf's absence. It was unheard of for a Lycan not to shift by their eighteenth birthday, but here she was, bearing the scars that served as a painful confirmation of her anomaly.

How long would she bear the burden of these scars? Would they fade away by her next birthday or continue to haunt her for the rest of her miserable existence?