The Runt and the Lycan King

The Marsh Witch

The heavy obsidian doors swung open, but it wasn't a hulking guard or a stern council member who stepped through.

A woman glided into the suite, and for a moment, the gray morning light seemed to catch on her and fracture into a dozen different colors. She was breathtaking. Her hair was a wild, cascading waterfall of golden curls that reached all the way to her waist, shimmering as if woven with actual sunlight. She wore a dress of sheer, layered silks in shades of moss and lavender that trailed behind her like a mist.

She looked... impossible.

"You rang?" she asked. Her voice was light and melodic, possessing a tinkling, airy quality that made me think of silver bells or wind chimes.

I blinked, my mouth parting in a small 'o' of surprise. Despite her human features, she had a fairy-like lightness to her, an effortless grace that made her seem like she might simply float away if the wind caught her. She looked like she had stepped directly out of a dream about a secret garden, her beauty almost too bright for the dark, heavy stone of the castle.

Confused and feeling incredibly out of place in my wrinkled yellow dress, I looked toward Demetrius for some kind of anchor.

Athena, however, didn't look enchanted. She let out a long, theatrical sigh and crossed her arms over her chest, looking thoroughly annoyed. It was the look of someone who had dealt with a difficult sibling for far too long—though I knew they weren't related by blood, the friction between them was sharp enough to spark.

Demetrius didn't seem bothered by the spectacle. He stepped toward the newcomer, his expression easing into one of genuine respect. "Rachel, I’d like you to meet Eloise. The witch I told you about."

I looked back at the blonde woman, then at the heavy doors that had been shut only seconds ago. "When did you call her?" I asked, my brow furrowing.

"Just now," Athena grumbled, her voice flat and dripping with irritation. She gestured vaguely at the air around Eloise. "If you say her name just the right way—with enough 'Alpha brooding'—she hears it in the wind and just... appears. It’s incredibly inconvenient."

Eloise let out a soft, musical giggle and moved toward Athena. She reached out with a dainty hand, patting Athena’s cheek before the Lycan princess could flinch away.

"It is so lovely to see you too, Athena," Eloise cooed in that small, light voice. "Still as prickly as a briar patch, I see. It’s a wonder your brother hasn't traded you in for a more agreeable model."

"Try it, and I'll shift in the middle of your marsh," Athena snapped back, though there was no real heat in it—just the practiced bickering of two people who had known each other far too long.

Eloise turned her attention to me then. Her eyes were a deep, piercing blue that seemed to see right through my skin and into the hollow spaces where my wolf lived. The playfulness vanished from her face, replaced by a sudden, intense gravity.

"Oh," she breathed, her voice losing its airy quality. "Your poor wolf."

She moved toward me with a grace that felt like a breeze. Deep inside me, in that dark, quiet void where my wolf usually slept in silence, I felt a sudden, violent stir. My wolf, usually so still and defeated, let out a ghostly, mournful whine. For the first time in my life, she wasn't hiding; she was reaching out. She recognized the kindness in Eloise's energy—she felt like someone was finally listening to her silent screams.

I gasped, clutching my chest. The urge to let this stranger touch me, to let her soothe the ache I’d carried for years, was overwhelming. My wolf was practically begging me to let the witch in.

But I couldn't. Years of being hunted and mocked had taught me that trust was a luxury I couldn't afford. I recoiled, stepping back until I hit the edge of the kitchen counter, keeping Eloise at bay with a trembling hand.

Eloise stopped mid-stride, her hand hovering in the air. She took in my bewildered, defensive expression and her eyes softened with a pained kind of empathy.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I can see how she is bound by magic. It’s suffocating her, Rachel. Who did this to you?"

My heart gave a heavy thud. "What... what are you talking about?" I stammered. "I don't understand. I was born this way."

Demetrius stepped forward, his body tensing, his Alpha aura flaring in a protective wave that nearly knocked the breath out of me. "What do you mean 'bound', Eloise? Explain."

Eloise didn't take her eyes off me. Her gaze swept over my body, tracing invisible lines in the air that only she could see.

"I can see the magical bands squeezing your wolf," she said, her voice now hard and serious. "They are wrapped around her soul like iron wire, cutting off her ability to shift, silencing her voice. Someone has spellbound you, Rachel. This wasn't a natural defect. This was a prison."

The blood drained from my face, leaving me cold despite the heat radiating from Demetrius. My mind raced, trying to find a face to fit the crime. My father was a ghost, a man I’d never known, leaving only one person who had been there from the start.

"Who?" Demetrius demanded, his voice a low, dangerous vibration that made the glass in my hand rattle. "Who has the physical and magical access to bind a child like that?"

Eloise looked at me, her iridescent eyes tracking those invisible lines that seemed to constrict the very air I breathed. "It’s a tethered spell, Demetrius. To tie a knot that tight, to keep it active for nearly two decades... it requires a blood connection. It has to be someone who shared her heartbeat before she even took her first breath."

The room seemed to tilt. My breath hitched, a sharp, cold pain blooming in my chest. No.

"My mother loved me," I whispered, the words feeling like they were being torn out of my throat. "She was the only one who didn't look at me like I was a burden. She stayed by my side when the rest of the pack whispered. She died before she ever got to see me shift... she never saw my wolf."

My heart ached at the memory of her. My mother had been my only shield against the world. It was only after she passed that everything truly changed—that the shift finally, painfully forced its way through, and the "runt" I was became the target of everyone’s cruelty. The Alpha hadn't even wanted to cast me out; he had kept me there, though I never understood why at the time.

"I don’t know why they are there," Eloise said, her voice dropping the airy, fairy-like tone as she stepped even closer. "I can’t see the intent, Rachel. I just see the bands. Thick, suffocating ribbons of old magic, wrapped so tightly they’ve become part of your spirit. Whoever did this was powerful, and they were thorough."

Demetrius moved toward me, his presence a solid wall of heat against my back. "We need to know more about your parents' history, Rachel. Everything. If this started at birth, the answers are in your bloodline." He looked down at me, his gaze searching. "What about your father?"

I shook my head, a hollow feeling opening up in my stomach. "I don't know him," I admitted, my voice cracking. "My mother never spoke his name. I grew up thinking he was just... gone. A traveler, a rogue, someone who didn't want to be found. There aren't even any pictures."

I sank back against the counter, my legs feeling like water. "It was a prison," I whispered, looking down at my trembling hands. "My whole life, I thought I was failing. I thought I was just too weak to be a wolf."

"You weren't weak," Eloise corrected, her eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp intensity. "You were being held down. And now that these bands are starting to fray, we need to find out who your father was before the rest of that magic decides to finish what it started."