The Queen's Mate
Zora held it out to me, "this belongs to you."
I gingerly held the book between my fingers in fear it would disintegrate to ash if I was too rough. The leather on this book had been embroidered with purple thread—the image of a howling wolf's head being formed. If I listened closely enough, I could make out faint whispers coming from the book—a cacophony of different sounds urging me to do one thing: open the book.
"The wings called to him the way the wolf calls to you," Zora explained. She moved to exit the room with one last statement, "Only one person would make a better queen than you and when it comes time for them to rule, you will be proud."
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