"Strength and Conflict"

Low murmurs ripple through the hall like a rising storm, the weight of unspoken judgments pressing against my chest. The elders, draped in ceremonial robes, move toward the central platform with the solemn grace of those who have seen centuries of bloodshed and hard-won victories.

 Their faces, etched with wisdom and battle scars, remain unreadable as they take their places.

In the middle of a circle of wolves, a frail, trembling figure curls inward, barely clothed, her skin too pale against the flickering torchlight. A vampire—small, human-like, and fragile-looking—yet undeniably dangerous.

 I’ve never seen one this close before. Today will be one for the history books.

“You bloodsuckers dare to spy on us?” Justine’s voice slices through the silence, a blade sharpened by generations of fury. Her red hair burns under the torchlight as she grabs the vampire’s face, fingers pressing deep enough to leave marks.

 “I asked you a question.” It wasn’t a question as much as an accusation. This is a death sentence in disguise. I tremble from the power bursting in the great hall. Glynn suddenly appears beside me. His own power is covering me like a shield. I’ve never felt someone so lustfully driven by power.

That is what he is right now, a ball of lustful dominance. My body reacts before my mind does, heat pooling low in my stomach. His fingers skim mine, teasing, lingering. I stand still, knowing the weight of all eyes will soon turn to us, to our judgment, to our power.

The vampire curls tighter into herself, awaiting the verdict. I don’t want to be the one to decide her fate. Glynn’s fingers find mine again, this time closing around them. His grip is strong, possessive. My mark hums where his touch lingers.

His hand is big against my own. I feel so much more powerful as he holds my hand and makes my mark alive somehow.

“Tonight, Jocelyn,” he says slowly, “after the run. I will marry you and I will make you submit.”

There he shows the not-so-hidden ace in his hand, my submission. POWER. The words steal the air from my lungs. I knew this was coming; knew we had been bound together —but this makes it real. Tonight, he will claim me, will step into our home for the first time as more than just my betrothed.

He never came before. Not once. Not after the veiled ceremony. Not after the announcement. I lay in that hospital bed alone, recovering from the transfusions, waiting. While he was out, entertaining other females, I was convincing myself that his absence meant nothing.

But now? Now, he has chosen a date. A moment. A night.

“I’m still recovering,” I whisper, my voice weaker than I want it to be. I wouldn’t even address the hilarious expectation of submission.

“You will be fine.” His fingers ghost over mine before he steps away, moving toward my father, the one who sold me to the highest bidder.

*

The decision is made without me. The elders have spoken, and the vampire will die. My protests are swallowed by the choking judgment in the room. Glynn’s hand tightens around mine in silent warning. The words I want to scream are lost suddenly.

“If we do this,” I whisper to the shadows, “we are no better than our past.”

Justine turns, sharp and pointed, her gaze flickering between Glynn and me.

“If we let it live, it will crawl back to the putrid shadows and spill our secrets to the rest of the bloodsucking leeches,” she hisses.

“Your father slaughtered vampires to keep us safe. Or have you forgotten?” She bites each word.

Glynn pulls me away before I can answer, dragging me out of the hall, out into the icy air. He turns me, his body a wall of heat against my front as I press my back against the wet stone. His hands cage me in.

His eyes burn chocolate.

“Are you as stupid as you are weak?” His voice drips, saliva hitting my cheek. “Do you want me to waste more time saving you?”

Rage coils inside me. When has this reckless monster ever saved me?

“I don’t need you,” I snap, shoving him back. “I’m an Alpha too. I’m allowed to have an opinion.  Once I thought we might even share one.”

His laugh is sharp, cutting. “We haven’t even been crowned, and you’re already defying the elders over some fang hag?” He sneers. “You don’t even know its name.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” My voice is steel now. “Maybe we should know more? Maybe it has a family? Maybe it loves?”

“Love?” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Love is a phantom that lies to people under the sheets at night. Power is the only thing that is tangible--usable.”

Disgust curls in my stomach. “You would say that.”

His face darkens, lips curling. “You are nothing like your father described. He said you were just an older version of Marta. Sure, she hasn’t filled out yet, but when she does, she’ll be the full package. Maybe I should have waited.”

The sound of my slap cracks through the air. Glynn stumbles back, his teeth elongating into jagged points, breath heaving. I had confused him. I brace myself, my energy crackling in response. I might be weak now, but if he comes at me, he will regret it. I am my father’s daughter.

His voice slices through the tension, loud enough for onlookers to hear. “Go home, Jocelyn.”

His words drip with venom.

 “Go home and put on the skimpiest black thing you can find, so maybe I’ll be halfway attracted to you.” He insults.

He storms off.

I exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding. This war—between vampires and wolves, between power and love, between him and me—has only just begun.