Instead, I was chosen and I’m still in shock. The moon split into three, making the holy sign of the triple goddesses, before a beam of dust or whatever the fuck it was floated to me. I couldn’t move. The dust landed on my chest and marked me for this bloodbath. I knew nothing good could come from it, but a little hunting and torture? I don’t mind that. I enjoy it, especially when my wolf joins in.
My family wasn’t happy. The Folkland doesn’t pick heirs, and I know my parents are pissed I will be gone for a while…or possibly die. I laugh to myself. I won’t die. This Folkland is different. I wasn’t alive for the last one, but my mother was, and she has kept strangely silent about what happens in it. Suspiciously so. All my mother cared about was the fact that a human was chosen this year. The goddesses don’t pick humans, so what the fuck is going on this year? Of course, no one has any answers to that, but at least I’m away from the pack and my royal duties for a while. A holiday, soaked in blood, so to speak.
I look down at the man as I finish the last of his fingers. He deserved to die, even if he hadn’t spit on Meredith. The priest told me he is here for killing his wife and child. This killing is much deserved. He’s wailing now, and it’s starting to irritate my ears. I reach down and rip his head off with one smooth motion, blood spraying over my hands and chest to mix with the rest of it. I’m covered in his blood, but I don’t care.
I wonder if I found Meredith now, would she like my show of affection? Wait, do humans like bloodshed? Something tells me they don’t, and I need a different approach to courting my little human. My best friend is human and better at this, but I can’t risk sending a message to my home about Meredith. I’ve never felt this way about anyone or even looked twice at a human woman before. I wipe the blood off my hands onto my jacket before choosing which bone to take from his corpse. I decide that one of the metacarpals in his hand is the best for my necklace.I will show it to her when she is ready to accept my obsession with her. I pocket the bone and remind myself to ask the Crone servants for a tool to drill a hole through it later.
The priest steps out from wherever the fuck he’s been hiding, and I narrow my eyes at him. He carefully steps around the puddle of blood and bows his head once. “I will remind you that killing the offered selected was not part of the goddesses’ plan. It’s an affront to the goddesses.”
I snort and cross my arms. “If the goddesses wanted that prick alive, I’m sure they would have made it clear. He was on a fast track to hell long before I met him.”
The priest’s creepy eyes widen. “We do not joke about the goddesses and hell, young heir.” He might not, but I don’t give a shit. The goddesses might have chosen me for the Folkland, but they stopped listening to my prayers a long time ago. I don’t ask them for shit anymore; it’s pointless. I might as well begin praying to whatever legend rules over hell, even if I shouldn’t know hell is real at all.
He looks around at all the gore and the blood, and I can tell he’s pretty disgusted by it. I, on the other hand, feel nothing. Blood doesn’t bother me, and it hasn’t done for many, many years. He must know I fought in the wars where I could have swum in blood. Since then, nothing has bothered me, and I show the world a pretty, charming smile so they feel comfortable. Nothing has got into my chest, into my iced-over heart, and made it beat. I’ve felt empty for so long that this new feeling is strange. Is it obsession? Love at first sight? I’m not sure, but I plan to work it out, hopefully between my little human’s sweet thighs.
Until now, nothing mattered. Until her, nothing made me feel like this. She chipped at my icy heart so breathtakingly easily, and now there is no going back. My little human looked at me, and I know I will yearn for her until she is mine. Or untilshe knows she is mine, because in my head, she already belongs to me. The priest touches my arm. “Be careful, young heir, the goddesses play with the elements and hearts all the same.” He walks away before I can question what he means by that.
I take two steps towards the door, and Blackfire walks in. He looks around at the gore and rubs his chin. Blackfire, the legend of the war, looks pissed off with me. He’s heir to the Crone Pack. We have fought in wars for and against each other, but I’ve never really wanted to kill him until right now because he smells like her. Cinnamon, feminine, and so fucking sweet. My mouth waters and she isn’t even here.
My thoughts instantly drift towards the moment I saw her for the first time, as I try to remember that killing another heir would be a bad idea. Especially when it’s Blackfire. I focus on her curves, on her long hair that I just want to wrap around my fist as I drive my cock through her pouty lips. She’s paler and shorter than most humans, but all of that adds to her uniqueness. She’s fucking gorgeous, and I need to see her again. Blackfire growls. “Whatever you’re thinking about, fucking stop it. I don’t need to scent your boner.”
I smirk at him and keep the playful expression on my face that I show everyone. “Heir Blackfire, a pleasure as always.”
“Heir Reed,” Blackfire formally responds. “You’ve made a mess. I assume you’re not going to clean up after yourself.”
Dickhead. He has guards and enslaved humans who would happily clean this up.
“What can I do for you?” I drawl, ignoring his problem with the mess I’ve made in here. I quickly look around and realize he isn’t joking. There is blood everywhere, and there is an arm stuck to the ceiling light. Whoops, how did it get up there? I lost myself in wolf bloodlust—again.
Blackfire leans against the wall, his expression guarded. His mask covers so much of his face, and I’ve never seen him withoutit, not even in the trenches of the wars. I don’t know what he looks like under the mask, and I’ve known him for over a hundred and fifty years. I’m used to the cool antics within this pack and how emotionless everyone is here. Crone Pack wolves are stuck-up, a bunch of assholes with fiery tempers. The royals are no different, but Blackfire isn’t half as cruel as his alpha.
Even in the silence, I sense we are being watched. The Crone Pack has eyes everywhere; in fact, all three of the royal castles are like this. You can’t even rip a man to pieces in peace without the alphas hearing about it. One of these spies will tell my parents, but they can hardly attempt to punish me in the Folkland.
I don’t let any emotion show on my face, and I keep myself impassive as I’ve been trained to do since birth when I’m around other royals and other courts. Everyone hates that the Crone Pack gets some dominion over the Folkland because it begins in their lands to the very north. The priests always come here, and that’s just how it’s been done, though my parents would kill for a chance to host the Folkland. The parties, the scheming, the money. It’s completely up their alley.
“My alpha would like to see you. Immediately,” Blackfire finally answers.
Fuck, I have to see that asshole? I wave at the blood covering all of my clothes, hands, and face. “Would he mind if I have a quick shower first?”
“No shower.” Blackfire’s tone is clipped. “We need to collect the other heir on the way to my alpha.”
I groan. Orion. The day just keeps getting better. Wait, it is a good day—I saw her. I breathe in her scent that clings to Blackfire, and I decide that seeing the Crone alpha won’t be that bad, because I can just focus on the fact I will be alone with Meredith soon enough. Blackfire turns, expecting me to follow.Asshole. “I will come with you as long as you tell me everything about Meredith Crone.”
Blackfire stills, his shoulders tensing. Interesting. “Why?” That was a clipped answer coming from the wolf I never hear show any emotion in front of others. In this court, at all.
I rub my jaw. Is Blackfire a threat to my little human? Does he want her for himself? Is this feeling jealousy?Huh.“Research. I want to know everyone who is entering the Folkland, and there is little information on the human. My mother was told only that she was human, and nothing else. So, tell me, and I’ll come and see your alpha without a fuss.”
A fuss is killing his guards for sport as my wolf is still pissed that we aren’t near Meredith.
Blackfire doesn’t look back, but he begins to walk, and more importantly—he begins to talk about her. Everything I learn about Meredith only confirms my first instinct. She is mine, and she is perfect for me. She is just as bloodthirsty as I am. Stabbing a wolf in the foot? Oh, goddesses, Icannotwait to meet her. I adjust myself, and Blackfire sneers at me as he stomps down the corridors. I’m determined to make her mine, and the first thing I’m doing is hunting down my little human and making sure she knows exactly who she is to me.
She will learn that she is mine.
Chapter Eight
Three days pass in what feels like a complete blur. I barely leave my room, only to go to the bathroom and sit in the bath for hours on end until it goes cold. They let me out onto the balcony to overlook the city, but not for long, and the guards ruined it by glaring at me the entire time. Still, the Crone Pack males are pretty to look at. I’m not complaining about my new boring life. The enslaved humans deliver us food, three meals a day, and Tannith and I happily eat all of it. I wish I could help the humans, but they don’t even react when I speak to them.
While sitting in bed, I made a solid plan to survive the Folkland:
