The Lost Queen

Ch. 13: Intruder

Rayne's ears wrung in the stunned silence between her and the intruder.

The murderer, curved in the shape of a woman, stood opposite of her. She looked more like a panther than a person with her gold, feline-like eyes and skin-tight clothes. Even her movements when she moved closer were fluid and meticulously thought out, matching Rayne's the way someone highly trained would. If Rayne focused hard enough, she swore she could make out the outline of a smirk.

Which only meant the assassin knew she was going to be caught.

And that Rayne was being watched without knowing it.

Rayne narrowed her gaze, her jaw locking as she increased the space between her and the assailant. Keeping the enemy in front of her and not engaging unless necessary was Irene's number one rule as a pregnant warrior. And should she shift, she would need to kill her enemy without hesitation to protect her young.

"Alpha," the intruder purred, gold eyes dancing over Rayne's defensive form with amusement. "Or should I address you as queen now? The lines between creatures can get so blurred and confusing sometimes when contaminated."

A flare of rage pulsed deep in Rayne's hot stomach as she struggled not to snap her teeth at the public disrespect. She growled instead, which only enlightened the woman who laughed behind the cloth she wore.

"I suppose alpha will do then," she teased, her lips twisting into a deeper smirk. "Don't worry, Alpha Vance. I know your king will be up here in the next two minutes after the guards alert him of the intruder climbing through his window, so we will keep this little meeting brief and simple."

"Who are you?" Rayne demanded, taking a threatening step forward. A battle tactic Terryn warned her against, but one she couldn't prevent from making.

The intruder's eyes glistened. "Not yet," she murmured, wagging her finger side to side at Rayne in amusement. "You'll know soon enough."

Rayne knew what her being there was; what it meant in the bigger picture. It was a warning to her. A promise. A promise that meant she was a well-trained assassin who knew how to cover her tracks when watching her and her family. An assassin who knew how to kill, how to infiltrate a palace to the king's chambers, and how to move undetected while others searched for her. It was a statement.

"What do you want?" Rayne spat. Her fingers twitched at her side, ready to grab the woman's throat. She wasn't supposed to engage, but she'd be damned if she didn't at least try to apprehend the person responsible for the death of her pack members. For the deaths in Jarrah's kingdom. 

"More like . . . what does she want?" the assassin murmured, her teeth — now sharpened, glistened with the unsettling length of her grin behind the thin cloth. "I'm simply the messenger, Alpha Vance. Her Majesty is the one in it for the long game."

Rayne dove for her, but the woman twirled just out of reach with a dancer's elegance. Her disdainful laugh that followed only infuriated Rayne further as she swiped her claws through the air to snag her midsection. Unfortunately, she only caught the breeze of nothingness.

By the time Rayne turned around to try again, the assassin was half-way out the window, balancing herself on the windowsill. She turned her chin up to Rayne and offered a warning smile that made the young alpha's stomach clench. "We'll meet again soon, Alpha Vance. Maybe even before your eight months are up. But be sure to bring that devilishly handsome Fae king of yours too, huh?"

Rayne froze. Jarrah's bedroom door burst open with a roar and a pair of tight, protective arms came around her solid form. But the assassin, milking the situation, winked and declared, "All hail the lost queen."