The Costas

A few miles away from the city of Pir stands a magnificent castle perched on the rocky slopes which look over the entire city. It is distinctly far away from the capital in the isolated area, high above the realms of the ordinary people. There are rumors that gods themselves used to reside in that castle once but after they had fallen, the Lycans took over their home.

The towers are of rectangular shape with smaller turrets on them. A flag containing the twin wolves’ emblem of the Faikan royal family stands on one of the turrets, signifying their dominance over the country. 

Inside the castle, the walls are decorated with shining golden and blue tapestry. The floors are sleek and spotless to the point people can see their faces in them. Chandeliers are hung high above in the ceiling, shimmering brightly while the long corridors are spacious and well maintained. 

In the middle of the castle is a throne room which has a frieze. The names and pictures of all the rulers of Faika are carved on it. A total of 152 rulers’ names are written on it with golden ink, their stories and tales being legendary among the people. 

Standing in front of the frieze is a tall man in his thirties. He has the distinct red eyes of a Lycan and he boasts of sharp, impressive looks. The man is wearing a crown on his head with the family emblem carved on it with gold and there is a large ruby in the middle of it. He is scratching his goatee, his face frowning with worry.

“Phillippe.”

Phillippe turns around to find his mate, Moira Morales, standing there. She is around his age and they have been together as mates ever since they came of age. Moira is slim and poised with dark auburn hair. Her face is plain but there is a silent dignity in her which makes her a perfect Empress for the kingdom. 

When she did not find her mate in bed with her, she came downstairs to check up on him.

“What are you doing?” She asks. “It is past midnight!”

“I am reading the names of my ancestors,” he mutters. “All of them seem to have very impressive records. Except for the last one.”

He points at the name of his father, Ramon Costa.

“The power struggle he created between Lavi and I will bring me down,” he notes.

“Is Lavi up to something again?”

“When is he not up to something?”

“But you won the war for Ezealyra,” Moira reasons. “The people love you and they loathe him. They are scared of him and will never accept him as an Emperor. After all, he is a-”

“Lavi does not care about all that,” Phillippe calmly says. “He wants power for himself and he is taking the help of someone very dangerous to plot against us. I felt it, Moira. Two nights ago, at the coronation of the new Ezealyran Emperor, he was different. I know that he went to Ezealyra for a reason.”

“They fought against an army of Undead,” he continues. “The army whom we thought of as a myth were on the battlefield, killing anyone in their way.”

The Undead are Dragons who were cursed by the Moon Goddess for rebelling against her. Together with the other gods, they had tried to kill her and her mate but the Moon Goddess trapped all of them in a mountain called Veneer. 

Since then, the Gods have been dormant while the Dragons became Undead. They are skeleton-like being which cannot be killed unless a witch buries them. The Undead were thought to be mere tales until Phillippe saw them with his own eyes during the Battle of Ezealyra. If it was not for Emperor Alexei and his witch mate, they would have all been dead.

“We managed to kill the Undead but there are more perils lurking out there,” Phillippe states. “Who is to say, my brother might end up summoning something even more dangerous in order to take us down.”

“Why does he hate you so much?” Moira frowns. “The royal family has been nothing but kind to him!”

“The Royal Family of Faika is a scum.”

Phillippe moves over to a table and pours a drink for himself and Moira. She sits across from him, listening to his tale.

“Lavi’s mother and my father were not mates,” Phillippe reveals. “His mother, Maryan, was a slave whom my father had smuggled into this country. He never told us why he took her in but I can tell that he forcibly made her pregnant. There is something in her blood which he wanted.”

“What is in her blood?” Moira frowns.

“I do not know,” Phillippe sighs. “But Lavi does not have a wolf due to this abnormality. When he was born, Maryan ran away with him. She kept him hidden for nearly seven years but you know how my father was. He found her and killed her in front of Lavi before bringing him back here. Lavi has every right to hate us all.”

He takes a sip from his goblet, his red eyes calculative. “I do not care if he lives or dies,” Phillippe admits. “But I will not let him have the throne. He is too unhinged and dangerous. There is an obsession which drives him. Until he dethrones me, he will not rest.”

“Let us have him mated to someone!” Moira suggests. “Maybe that will-”

Phillippe shakes his head. There are many mysteries surrounding Lavi but he knows that Lavi will never take a mate. He does not know the exact reason but a nagging feeling that Lavi’s mate will be damn unlucky.

“No woman can handle him,” Phillippe predicts. “A power hungry Lavi can be controlled but I shudder to think what will happen if he falls in love with his destined mate.”

“What will happen?”

Moira is now curious. In her fourteen year marriage, she only met Lavi a couple of times but she is curious about Phillippe’s analysis of his brother.

“If a power hungry Lavi can attempt to kill his own family for his gains,” Phillippe begins. “Then a lovesick Lavi will strike down the gods to get his mate.”

There is a long silence between them.

“What if he manages to kill us?” Moira whispers. To her surprise, Phillippe is smiling.

“I made sure that he will not be able to do anything,” he declares. “If everything goes according to plan, Lavi will be out of our way soon.”

“What did you do?” 

“I have sent the best assassin from the Black Jacks after him,” Philippe reveals. “By now, she must have infiltrated his palace. Soon, she will also kill him. All she needs is time.” 

…

Anna is woken by the rattling on the cell’s metal rods.

“Wake up you c*nt!” One of the guards barks at her. “You’ll be taken to the slave quarters today!”

Anna is calm and collected as the door opens and a few guards enter to escort her. She slowly stands up and walks along with them. They do not offer her a hand to help her in keeping up with them but she does not need their aid anyway. Her eyes may not work but her senses can catch on to their movements.

As she passes the hallway, she takes notes of all the smallest details. She had the map of the Prince’s Palace memorized but her knowledge is limited to the exterior and his chamber. 

Now that she is walking in one part of the castle, she deduces that the place is too quiet. Not even the servants dare to make a single noise. Other than occasional scraping of plates or hushed footsteps, the rest of the palace is too quiet.

They are scared of him, she deduces. It does not come as a surprise to her. Prince Lavi’s reputation as a cruel tyrant is infamous.

This only fuels her desire to kill him.

The guards stop in front of a small chamber. Anna can hear several more people joining them and by their scents, she can tell that they are girls.

“Get in there!” A guard orders her. He pushes her into the room.

An elderly woman in her fifties approaches Anna. She takes a look at the blind girl and snorts.

“Wear these,” the woman orders. “Form now on, you’re slave number 30. The Prince has chosen you to cater directly to him. You might be blind but I won’t tolerate any clumsiness!”

“And I will not tolerate any insolence,” Anna says out loud. 

“What was that?”

The older woman picks up a stick and is about to strike Anna but the latter grabs it. Before the woman can react, Anna breaks the stick into two.

“Next time, I will break your back,” Anna calmly threatens. The older woman is mortified but Anna grabs the clothes and makes her way to the changing room. Once she slams the door shut, Anna lets out a sigh of relief.

All going according to the plan so far, she grins. 

The moment Lavi made her a slave in his palace, she has been plotting to find ways to gain access to him. She knows that he is ready for her attacks but she is patient. Killing him now will only alert her parents’ murderer.

“The name,” she mutters. “I just need the name.”

A loud bang on the door breaks her out of her reverie.

“Oi you! Get outta there!”

Anna quickly changes into the drab of the slaves. She feels the number 30 stitched on it and winces. The clothes are more like a one piece rug which barely reaches till her knees. It is too loose for her and reveals her strong arms.

Sick b*stard, she curses in her head. Anna slowly comes out of the changing room to face the head omega outside. The older woman, Latifa, is a little apprehensive of the newcomer. The blind girl does not seem to be weak and her scent is also very refined as if she is from a noble family.

She roughly hands a tray with cups and a teapot on it.

“Go and serve the Prince his morning tea!” Latifa barks. Anna takes the tray and turns on heels to leave.

She passes through the hallways, trying to catch the scent of the cruel Prince. Anna can feel the eyes of the guards on her and she is also disgusted to hear their jeers at her.

“I wonder how good the blind one is in bed?” One guard says loudly. “She might be a slave but look at that body!”

“I hear the prince threw her out of his room!”

“Too bad she’s blind. Otherwise I’d have taken her as my bedwarmer-”

Anna stealthily kicks a knight of armor. The guards are startled when it nearly falls on them and they scurry to avoid it.

Should I just stab them in their sleep? She idly wonders.