Heart of the Wolf Prince

Chapter 38

My heart twists with dread when we finally make it back to the plains. We hover at the edge of the treeline, staring out at the scene beyond. Several fires dot the area, though there is nowhere near as many from the night before. Purple silhouettes dart in between tents, and the reddening sky above casts the field in a deep orange. From the outside, it seems peaceful, but I can feel the tense buzz like bugs crawling over my skin.

I breathe in. I breathe out. I snatch Kohl's hand and begin walking to the encampment, before I lose my nerve.

It takes the people a good moment to recognise who we are. When they do, startled yells and calls for the king fill the air. Me and Kohl pause at the edge of it all, our hands still joined, and I notice how many of the ogling eyes dart to it.

I look around, searching for my sister. Before I can comb through more than a few people, however, King Galen ploughs through the crowd with Queen Selene at his side. His eyes are all golden rage, while hers are the ice-blue of cold terror. She's staring at me with pale lips and a white face, perhaps horrified to see me back here, perhaps horrified to see us back here, but I push my shoulders back and send her my smallest nod. I'm not leaving here. Not until I have my sister.

"I suppose you're back for your traitorous blood?" King Galen booms, though he really doesn't need to given he's only twenty yards away. I fix him with an icy glare and nod. He snorts and gestures to his left.

I turn, and a ragged breath escapes me when I spot Althea. A collar of silver encases her throat, welded to a chain that connects her to an iron post. It seems King Galen wasted no time with corporeal punishment. Her leather pants and white vest is in tatters, soaked from the blood of the lacerations covering her body. There are so many. Down her legs, up her arms, across her torso. I can't tear my gaze away from the puffy, raw wounds. Her shoulders are trembling, and her face is so pale she looks green, but her eyes still hold that scolding glint despite it all, the one that would accompany a hard reprimand from her mouth – I told you to run.

Damn her. Damn her for caring about me while being whipped like a dog. Damn her for wanting me to run, even now, while she stands there broken and bleeding for my sins. The sight of my bleeding sister fills me with so much anger, I whip my eyes back to the man who did it.

Galen is smirking at me, as though he can see how much it is affecting me, and I want to scream at him. I want to burn him until he's nothing more than a charred crisp, but before I can, Kohl steps forward. A tense hush falls over the crowd.

"I, Kohl Gahndor, challenge you, Galen Gahndor, for the throne of Raelia."

For a few moments, the king just stares at his son. Then, he tips back his head and roars with laughter.

"You must have a deathwish, son. You will not beat me."

"So, you refuse, then?" Kohl asks, tilting in an almost innocent manner. "Given how much you preach the true Gahndor way, I'm surprised you would turn down such a noble request. I'm sure your people would be inclined to agree."

"I did not say I'm turning you down," Galen snarls.

Kohl smiles; a cold, calculating one for luring his father right into his trap. "So, you accept?"

The king stiffens, his eyes darting to those around him. They all look at him expectantly, a few with quizzical looks on their faces. Gahndor kings are not supposed to refuse when their charges challenge them for the throne. He knows that better than anyone else.

A huff of frustration escapes him. "I accept," he says, then, pointing a finger at me, adds, "but you know the rules. Fire-bitch cannot intervene. This is a fight for the throne. And if I win, rest assured that I will not only kill your flame-whore, but her bitch of a sister as well."