Twice marked by the lycan King

I passed the path, which was narrow, and bordered with wild grass, the early morning sun just piercing through the mist. The air was dark and moist, and had a slight odour of flowers abandoned on the graves. I had been coming here years and years, since the war that had claimed my parents and every time I came I felt the same impact of the death of my parents as I had felt the first time. I knelt before the gravestones and stopped. Their names were worn and followed by my fingers. “Father. Mother,” I whispered. So long so long and I miss you every day. It was a little c***k of the voice, and I made myself go on. It was almost a decade after that war, yet the pain was still fresh, as though it had occurred yesterday. I lowered my head, and left the wind blow the words. I glanced around the graves, the little piece of garden which had been kept by the pack, and which now was somewhat overgrown. All that made me think about what I had lost. We were no longer the pack we used to be. Kieran had succeeded Father on his death. I had initially believed that he would attempt to make the pack right but it did not take long to figure out that all he was interested in is power. His regulations were severe, rigid, and unjust. I recalled how he had stared at me when he summoned me back to the palace the first time like I was an object to be used. I do not know whether you can see me, but I want you to know what is going on here, said I to myself. The pack… it’s falling apart. Kieran is not concerned about other people but himself. He castigates the challengers. He is afraid to make everyone subdue to his fear. I shut my eyes a little, and pictured my father straight, calm yet determined, and the kind eyes of my mother which had always attempted to shield me. The memories came back and my chest tightened. I wondered what I had been abused by since he had become Alpha. It was not the manner in which he handled the pack but it was personal. He was always telling me that I was inferior to him, and that I belonged nowhere in the palace or among the heads of the pack. The punishments, the insults, the cold silence, they had all been a part of his control, and I had suffered. I was left with no option, I had to live my life the best way I could, by keeping my head low and doing as I was told. My stomach twisted at the idea of yesterday. I was still experiencing the pain in my body, the bruises that developed along my arms and along my ribs. Kieran had punched me because I had dared to speak against him, when he had attempted to touch me in a way that was not right. I recalled how I confronted him, attempted to stop him and the anger and disappointment that I saw in his eyes just before he struck me. I had dropped on the ground, and was angrier and scared than I believed could be, and he had strolled away as though nothing had occurred. I followed the bruises with my fingers, and winced. It still hurt. But more than the physical hurt it was the humiliation and helplessness which burned even more. I want you here, I said, and my voice shook once more. I want you to see how the pack is smashed over, how I have been made out... I have no home of my own pack to call home. I choked, attempting to get myself together. I despised the fact that I was so feeble, so small, yet nobody was there to intervene with Kieran. No one had defended me. Even his guards who served under him did not pay attention to the abuse. It was all a part of the life he had planned me. I breathed in and pulled myself up. The sun was now more up, and pierced the mist with a colder light, and the world about me was colder than normal. I challenged myself to get over the sorrow and to concentrate on the real life issues I had to attend to. I could not remain in the graves indefinitely, as much as I would have liked to communicate with my parents. My stomach gave me a reminder that I had not eaten breakfast and I had to survive today as I do every other day. I rose and shook my hands, and looked one more time at the stones. I will attempt to continue, I said to myself. “I’ll survive, Father. I’ll survive, Mother. I’ll live even when he makes it impossible. Naturally, there was no reply, and the wind was rustling the leaves over the graves. But it was sufficient to give me a little feeling of strength. I walked off and headed down the street to the market. It was not a long distance, though each step seemed to burden me with the load that I had been bearing so long. People were already in the streets, and the stalls were already in place calling to the potential buyers. I passed by them slowly looking at the products, searching something to eat. Bread and fruit and a little dried meat--I did not want luxuries, only as much as was necessary to keep me in body. I was walking with my little bag of food and was heading to the direction where I lived. When I got to the verge of my house I stopped. The guards of the Alpha stood there, and they were stiff and cold. My stomach sank. I was aware that this could not be good. I came up with hands gripping the strap of my bag. One of the guards came up, and his voice was cold and formal. “Amara,” he said. “You have been summoned. The Alpha requires that you be at the palace.