Throwing the Gauntlet

Frey frowned and looked behind him. He couldn’t sense anything. He looked up but there were no stars in the sky and the moon was hidden behind dark clouds. He huffed a breath and kept moving. The trees, and the grass, and the forest life blurred as he ran past them. He stopped abruptly as he heard a twig snap. Crap, s**t, f**k. They had found him. He crouched low and felt the grass beneath his cold fingers. They were vibrating slightly. With a roll of his eyes he scrambled up the nearest tree and perched halfway up. He looked below him, trying to see if anyone came past. Nothing. He curled his mouth in disgust. Maybe he’d imagined it? It wasn’t like he was any bloody good at this s**t. He lifted a foot to jump down when something hard hit into him from behind. He cried out as he hit the ground in force. He tried to turn and get away but his assailant held him down roughly. “Now, now,” the voice whispered harshly in his ear. “That was too easy.” “Get the f**k off me,” Frey groused. The voice laughed and the pressure eased. Frey flopped onto his back and sighed. Lain stood over him, an amused smile gracing her beautiful lips, hands on her slim hips. “What’s that?” she said, “Three out of three?” “Try seven,” he huffed. He groaned and stood. “I think you broke something.” She gave him an offended look. “Like I’d do anything so careless as to not break our Princes fall.” Frey grunted and rotated his shoulder. Broken or not he felt like he’d just gone ten rounds with a grizzly. “Can we go now? I’m sick of playing these games.” Lain laughed. “They aren’t games Frey. They’re supposed to be teaching you how to hunt, how to fight, how to stay alive.” Frey waved his arms around. “We’re in the most secure place in the world,” he retorted. “Surrounded by guards who have sworn to give their lives to protect mine.” A fact that grated on his nerves. Sometimes he’d rather find himself out in the wild where the werewolves could rip him apart. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know how to do it yourself,” she said, punching him in the shoulder playfully. Frey shook his head as they headed back to the inner sanctum. “I don’t want to play soldier,” he grumbled. “And I’m not going to let you waste away in this place.” “Doing what I enjoy, rather than what you enjoy, is not wasting away,” he protested. Lain grabbed his arm and forced him to stop and turn towards her. “Are you really doing what you enjoy? Spending the day avoiding your father, avoiding your responsibilities and sitting alone in your room?” He pulled his arm from her grasp. “You make it sound like I sit there and do nothing.” “You might as well be. Your father has a very different life planned for you.” Frey turned away from her, and continued walking. “I don’t give a flying f**k what he wants. I’m not going to marry the woman he planned, I’m not going to play politics and I sure as hell am not going to run this place. He can go to hell, and you can do it instead.” “I love how you think you have a choice,” Lain snorted. Frey gave her the finger. She laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Ah, Frey, if only we could marry. Then we’d both get what we want.” They shared a look, and then a sigh. She rested her head on his shoulder as they walked and he gave her waist a squeeze. He had grown up in this place, surrounded by the cold walls and even colder clientele. Lain had been a bright spot in his life, his saviour. She was a hard woman, and a hard solider, but she was his greatest friend. Without her he knew he would have turned to dust a long time ago. As soon as they entered the inner walls of the castle a maid came rushing towards them, and Frey tried to pull away in the opposite direction. Lains hard grip on his arm stopped him from being able to retreat. “Prince Freyr, Lady Lain.” She gave them a quick curtsy. “King Audun has requested your presence in the throne room.” “Joy,” Frey muttered. Lain kicked him in the shin and thanked the maid, who rushed away as soon as her message was acknowledged. “Manners, Frey.” “What manners?” She just gave him a look. Frey shrugged and headed towards the throne room. “Maybe I should change first?” Frey glanced back at her, and raised a brow. “Why?” “Because I’m covered in mud, and I’m not wearing any of my ceremonial gear?” Frey rolled his eyes. “He knew where we were and what we were doing.” Lain looked unsure, looking down at her attire. He couldn’t give a s**t what he looked like. If his father didn’t like it then he shouldn’t summon him like a f*****g dog. Frey just continued to walk, confident that she would follow him anyway. He shoved the throne doors open without allowing the guards to go in first and introduce him. He felt Lain slip away from him, but he didn’t look back. His father was in a discussion with his Head of Security. They were seated at a long table to the left of the throne, and were pouring over what looked like ancient maps. If Frey had cared what they were doing he might have thought of asking about it. “You wanted to see me?” “I asked to see my son. All I see right now is a belligerent child who can’t follow simple procedure.” His father didn’t even look at him. Frey clenched his teeth. “You mean the pomp and ceremony at the door?” He folded his arms. “It’s stupid, unnecessary and a waste of time. Who the hell else would let themselves in here?” He didn’t even want to be here. “If you can’t follow simple rules, how are you expected to enforce them?” “Guess that’s your problem, isn’t it?” Cold blue eyes locked onto his and Frey had to visibly stop himself from rolling his eyes. Because he knew how well that would go over. “Leave us,” Audun ordered, flicking his fingers at the various vampires situated around the room. “Not you, Lain.” She came to stand beside the table, her back straight, her expression carefully blank. She looked every bit the soldier and Frey bit his tongue from saying something scathing. She didn’t deserve to be in the middle of this. “How is the training going?” Lains eyes flicked to Frey’s. “It’s going, My Liege.” His father looked at him, and he refused to flinch beneath that gaze. “Frey.” “What?” “How is your training going?” “What she said,” he said, flicking his thumb over to Lain. He ignored the way she cringed. “Then you won’t mind a step up in your training?” Frey narrowed his eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” “Respect, Frey,” Audun roared, slamming his fist down on the table so hard it split in two, the papers scattered over it fluttering to the floor. “You will respect me!” Frey sneered, but said nothing. What had his father ever done to earn his respect? f*****g nothing. “We have new guests arriving tomorrow. They’re bringing with them a very important prize.” Which meant a new werewolf pet, Frey guessed. Who gave a s**t? “You want me to play maid?” he baited. “Get their rooms ready for them?” “Maybe I should!” Frey shrugged. He could think of worse things to do. “But no,” Audun continued. Frey felt his fangs twitch at the tone. He tensed, feeling unsure. “It will be your job to tame the beast.” Frey’s arms dropped to his side, and he couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. “What?” f**k no! “No f*****g way.” “It’s funny how you think you have a choice,” Audun said, eerily mimicking Lains earlier words. “I’m not doing it. Go to hell,” Frey snarled. He was not going to be in charge of one of those savage animals. He’d rather get stuck in the sun and burn to death. “I like to think that I have been nothing but lenient on you, Freyr.” Frey barely resisted the urge to snort. Clearly their idea of ‘lenient’ was worlds apart. Even his bloody shadow was ordered around. If people thought there was freedom in being royalty they were f*****g stupid. “But by the fang, if you do not tame this beast the long leash you are on is going to get uncomfortably short. You will live and breathe the soldiers’ life, and those paints you find so precious? Kiss them goodbye. I will work you so hard that you’ll wish you were just being asked to do something as simple as this.” Checkmate, and f**k. “Taming these beasts, and making them bow to us is a rite of passage, Freyr. One day you’ll thank me.” Not f*****g likely. He stormed from the room before he made the whole f****d up situation worse. Frey growled and slammed his door shut. He gave it a vicious kick for good measure. f**k his father, f**k this place! He roared and tipped his desk, paints and canvases flying across the room. He punched the wall, ignoring the way it ripped his hand open. There was no way he was going to do this. He was a s**t soldier, and he’d be an ever worse tamer. He wasn’t built for that kind of life. He was a piss poor vampire at the best of times. He didn’t want to fight, to bathe in blood, to become another pawn in the horde. He just wanted to be left alone, why was that so f*****g hard? He slid down the wall and kept going until he lay flat on the floor. His hand throbbed as it slowly knitted itself back together. He turned his head to the side as someone knocked on his door, but otherwise ignored it. He gritted his teeth and ignored the slide of tears tracking against his cheek. He wasn’t going to do this. He didn’t care what his father said. He would not do this. The beast could be chained to the wall and starve for all he cared. Frey went through the motions, greeting the guests with a politeness he didn’t feel, making faces at them in his mind and imagining what it would be like if he suddenly ripped off their heads. Wouldn’t that give his father something to rant and rave about. He could feel Lain watching him but so far she hadn’t made a move to approach him. He looked over the buffet; the array of different flavored blood wines, and the blood soaked nibbles. They all looked about as appeasing as a rotting corpse. He let out a breath and moved away. Maybe if he kept on the move no one would try and speak to him more than necessary. When the pomp and ceremony began to die down, his father ordered them to bring in the prize. As the guards walked away to do as asked Lain sidled up to him. “Have you ever seen a werewolf, Frey?” she asked. “Other than in pictures? No.” The werewolf slaves weren’t allowed in the inner sanctum of the castle, and Frey had never felt the need to wander into the taming quarters where they were turned subservient and then sold to the highest bidder. None of them stayed here, and Frey had never cared to learn more about the process. “Stay close,” she said quietly. He looked at her, noticing the pale sheen to her skin. “Why?” “Just trust me.” He wondered how she knew anything about it. As far as he knew this was the first werewolf to be paraded into the throne room. No others had warranted such an entrance. When the doors opened, Frey had expected a docile creature to be brought into the throne room, trussed up in chains and walking obediently beside the guards. What he had not expected was a loud, crazed man being pulled in by chains. He was yanking and snarling at the chains, refusing to be led like an animal. He was dragging his feet, and the one guard stupid enough to lose focus and get too close was rewarded with deep gashes across his chest. The man looked like he hadn’t bathed in weeks, and his long hair was knotted and covered in dirt and leaves. His clothes were ripped, and tattered and he wore nothing on his feet. Frey frowned and moved closer, wanting to get a better look. The movement must have gotten the man’ attention as his head snapped up and his eyes locked with Frey’s. Frey froze, feeling weak. The intense golden eyes staring at him were anything but human. They were dark, like liquid gold, and staring with so much hatred that Frey knew if he was free every person in this room would have been in pieces. Then the moment passed and the creature continued to pull at his shackles. Even as they cuffed him to the wall by his wrists and ankles he still twisted and turned, trying to get away. Frey finally registered a hand on his arm and he turned to see Lain looking at him with concern. “You really think this is the one your father is giving to you?” “Do you see another wolf here?” “Freyr,” Audun boomed. “Step forward.” With a hard swallow Frey did as he was told and came to stand beside his father. He couldn’t think of a single smartass thing to say. The creature stopped struggling and stared at Frey. Frey flinched and took an involuntary step backward. “Look at that,” Audun said, pride lacing his voice. “You’re already taming the beast.” Looking into his eyes, Frey knew without a doubt that he was looking into the eyes of a deadly predator, and there was nothing tame about him.